True Identity
by DarkPhoenix7
Summary: What would you do if you found out your whole life's been a lie? What would you do if there was no one to trust? What would you do if you had to carry the future of the world on your shoulders? Severitus; CWHP slash in later chapters.
1. Chapter 1

**True Identity**

**Disclaimer: **This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J. K. Rowling.

**Info:** After OOtP; not HBP and DH compliant

**Warnings:** It is rated M for a reason though the more graphic scenes will come later into the story (torture, sex, etc.). Also, it is a slash story, so if you don't like it, don't read it.

**AN:** The first chapter is not the most interesting one. The story truly begins with the second chapter. However, there are some explanations in the chapter which are important for the plot.

So much for me for the moment. I hope you enjoy it!

**1. Chapter – The End of the beginning**

‚Books, invisibility cloak, clothes, Firebolt, wand...' A young teenager counted for himself. He was standing in the middle of a room resembling a prison cell. Sure there was a bed on the one side (if you could call the cot such), even an old dresser was on the other side of the room and a small desk stood under a window which was open as far as it went, though this meant that it was open not even half the way. An escape from the room through the window seemed highly impossible not only due to the stopper on the window-opening but because of the narrow bars that were installed on the window. The door was barricaded as well. You couldn't detect anything odd with the door from within the room (except from a cat flap). However, if you were to look from the hallway you could detect many locks.

Harry Potter was an unusual teenager. For one there are not so many 16 year olds who would be residing in a prisonlike room – and there was no doubt that Harry Potter had to have spend some time in that room as he was putting his things as he found them in his trunk. Some clothes were in the wardrobe, some on the floor. Books were scattered around the whole room. Some priced possessions had to be dug up from under a loose floorboard. Everything in the room was placed in the trunk but for the wand, the invisibility cloak, which Harry kept on himself, and an empty owl cage that stood on the desk as Harry had already sent Hedwig, his owl, ahead to his destinations.

The boy was also a wizard. A famous wizard to that. Known in the Wizarding world as The Boy Who Lived, The Chosen One and the like. Famous for something he had done at the age of 15 months. He was the only one to survive the killing curse. Hundreds of witches and wizards, thousands of people succumbed to Avada Kedavra. The baby's mother died protecting him, minutes after his father was murdered by none other than the Dark Lord.

Instead of being happy about the fact that he survived and even caused the Dark Lord's departure for almost 14 years, Harry Potter was cursing this very fact. Why did he have to survive? Why not someone else? Don't get me wrong, he wasn't against the fact of walking and breathing. No, he was very much desperate to live – at least he used to be. The problem was that he wasn't allowed to lead his own life. Serving his muggle relatives from the moment on he could walk, living up to expectations of fellow witches and wizards, fighting for his own skin and the lives of his friends and peers every year and now preparing himself for yet another 'adventure', killing the unkillable Lord Voldemort who managed to get himself a new body in the end of Harry's fourth year at Hogwarts.

Yes, Harry found it very much ironic that he, The Boy Who Lived, for all intent and purposes died as the killing curse hit him. He used to fight this, the feeling of not living but barely surviving. He used to disobey orders others gave him. He used to try to push the boundaries in the world he entered at the age of eleven. He used to. But in the end of his fifth year at Hogwarts his world turned upside down. His godfather, Sirius Black, was killed in a battle between the Light and Dark forces at the Ministry of Magic and Harry was at least partially responsible for his death. Were it not for his rash action as reaction to one of false visions Voldemort had sent him through their link, the infamous lightning-bolt-shaped scar, visions Harry was supposed to learn to block but never really put much effort into, Sirius would not have followed the other Order members to the Department of Mysteries in an attempt to rescue Harry and his friends.

There were only few positive things to be said about the ministry fiasco – all of the wizards fighting for the Light side but Sirius escaped relatively unscarred. The Wizarding world acknowledged at last the resurrection of the so called You Who Must Not Be Named albeit one year too late. Some of the high ranking Death Eaters were captured (notwithstanding the fact they were 'rescued' by their Master from the wizarding prison, Azkaban few months later. As Harry said: "People at least know what scum they are.". And lastly Sirius' name was cleared of the false murder accusations post-humously for which he was sent to Azkaban only to escape and be on the run since Harry's third year. Though all of this couldn't lessen the guilt and sorrow Harry felt for his godfather's death.

As if this was not enough, Albus Dumbledore, the headmaster of Hogwarts school of Witchcraft and Wizardry, revealed to the last living Potter a prophecy that in fact led to Voldemort's hunt after Harry when he was a baby and so indirectly caused the death of James and Lily Potter.

From the night Sirius died and the prophecy was showed to Harry, he had to live with the knowledge of being the one with the power to "vanquish" the Dark Lord. That he had to either be murdered or become a murderer as "... either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... ".

When Harry later thought about his life up to that night and about the prophecy, he came to the conclusion that he was not supposed to live but barely to survive and serve as the perfect weapon of the Wizarding world. He thought about his non-existent childhood when he worked hard in the household of his only living relatives, the Dursleys, and was beat up for every little mishap that happened to his aunt, uncle or cousin. The worse the mood of his relatives, the worse the 'punishments'. He got only so much food so that his body could function and he was not a stranger to long periods of time with no food whatsoever. Until the age of eleven he lived in a small cupboard full of spiders. After getting his Hogwart's letter he was allowed to use his cousin's second bedroom, room which became during the summers he couldn't spend at his boarding school his own little prison where he was locked when he wasn't cooking, cleaning gardening or maintaining the house.

He thought about every little adventure he went on during his last five years at Hogwarts. Wasn't it strange for the headmaster, a man always so aware of happenings inside and outside the castle to allow a man possessed by Voldemort himself to teach at the school? Why was the Sorcerer's Stone in Harry's first year protected by charms and obstacles easily overcome by eleven year olds? Barely a coincidence? Why had Harry with the help of his friends had to figure what the Slytherin' Monster was and go after Tom Riddle, the teenage version of Lord Voldemort, himself? Why didn't Dumbledore intercept Ginny Weasley as she was acting on Riddle's command? And how is it possible that Dumbledore, the leader of the Order of the Phoenix, wasn't aware of Sirius Black being innocent? How come Harry was forced to participate in the Triwizard Tournament in his fourth year? Sure his name was entered by the impersonated Moody, a Death Eater Barty Crouch, but what reasons were there for him to struggle without any adult guidance in the tasks which in the past caused many a death? And last but not least why didn't he get some individual training in the knowledge that he was to one day fight the most evil dark wizard of modern age?

There were many more questions but you could only speculate as for the answers. However Harry was sure more than ever that Dumbledore was aware of his 'home' life. That he knew when placing Harry as a baby on the doorstep of number 4 Privet Drive in Surrey that Harry was condemned to years of being hated and frowned upon. With the knowledge that the baby would grow up into a very unsure, self-conscious child which could be easily manipulated (or led as Dumbledore would say) to the 'right' pass. That he would have very low self-esteem but would be very independent. Such neglected and abused child would be starved for any kind of affection and recognition and fairly easy to form into anything even the perfect weapon to use against enemies by the first person to offer some kindness.

Why did Harry go after Quirell, Riddle or Sirius Black? Had he as Hermione commented some "saving people thing"? Sure he was after Riddle to save Ginny because she was dear to him as a sister. He went to the Department of Mysteries because he thought Sirius was there being tortured by Voldemort. He went to save them because he couldn't face people he cared about, people who cared about him dying. But why didn't he ask any teachers at his school for help? Was he really so much self-absorbed and arrogant as Snape always said? On the other hand did he really have any reason to trust their help when he was hurt and denied by them time and time again?

With the knowledge of the prophecy and his impending doom he started to understand his life up until now. He had to suffer as a child and adolescent with the Dursleys because he had to be as a blank page when he entered the Wizarding World. Every year at Hogwarts he had to face some kind of test so that Dumbledore could ascertain his power and abilities.

One of the things he didn't really understand was the lack of training in defence. Harry was sure as hell that he, a mere teenager, wouldn't be able to kill Voldemort with the harmless spells he learned at Hogwarts. While he was able to face him on his own and escape three times, who was he to think he would be lucky for the fourth time? If he were to save the Wizarding world at large he had to be more skilful, right?

Harry tried to see it from Dumbledore perspective: If Harry wasn't taught any kind of defence, he would be either forced to work on his own, memorising some defence and fighting spells, and become even more independent, or go in a duel with Voldemort blindly with a high risk of failure and death.

Dumbledore had already made sure that Harry would do anything to bring Voldemort down even if it meant his own death but the question is why would Dumbledore want Harry not to survive the war? Harry wasn't really sure about the answer and he wasn't even certain he wanted to know because if he believed the headmaster wanted his death than every hope in Dumbledore as his mentor and the figurehead of the Light side would be shattered.

Thinking back on his years at Hogwarts couldn't deny the fact that Dumbledore was indeed a master manipulator. The only thing Harry could do was to think about his possibilities. He knew he had to face Voldemort at least once more – be it because of being 'guided' once again or on his own terms. He knew himself well and so the possibility of committing suicide (if it even worked) or leaving the Wizarding world at large didn't come in question.

After the horrendous fifth year and especially everything leading up to Sirius' death, Harry didn't wish to stay the perfect pawn but to start fighting the dark forces on his own terms. Although theoretical knowledge could help only so much in a real battle or duel, the young wizard decided not to allow his Gryffindor' side to get kill him.

During the annual visit to Diagon Alley for school supplies in the end of the summer before Harry's sixth year Harry bought much more books in Flourish & Blotts than he needed to. He bought some books on the Mind Arts, Defence against the dark arts and the Dark Arts themselves.

To Harry's utter amazement he managed to get an Outstanding in Potions and so he could continue with all courses necessary for future Auror career (although he wasn't really sure anymore if this was what he really wanted). Beside his NEWT-level courses Harry spent many hours reading his new books and other books in the library on defence. Apart from that he tried to gain some knowledge on the Dark Arts in order to be able to assess his opponents.

He did everything he could to close his mind. In the books on Occlumency Harry found some helpful advice as to how he was supposed to "clear his mind". He lacked the attacks against his mind from a Legilimence to make sure his walls were as strong and unyielding as ever but he was sure that in the end he mastered the final art of Occlumency.

After applying the suggested technics his mind became more ordered. Harry could concentrate better and his control of his emotions as well as reactions improved. The final and most important proof of his new found skill was the fact that his nearly nightly visions of Voldemort torturing innocent or Death Eater meetings became infrequent and after a while even the strongest of Voldemort's emotions could not force his mind open.

Most of his extra-curricular studies he hid from his friends. He wasn't sure why but he thought that it may be better if his new found hunger for knowledge was kept secret as long as possible. For one he didn't think Dumbledore would approve. Beside that Ron wouldn't understand his lack of interest in Quidditch and both he and Hermione would suspect some dark purpose behind him reading on the Dark Arts or some more powerful defence spells and other curses in the death of night and practicing every now and then when he couldn't sleep in the Room of Requirement.

However he couldn't hide his growing effort as he improved in his classes and spent more time studying than ever before. While Ron accused him of becoming a new Hermione Granger, she herself was very proud of him thinking he was growing up.

Up until Christmas that year Harry 'indulged' in playing Quidditch on the Gryffindor team. Ron was the new Captain and he forced his teammates to train every day at least for two hours regardless of the weather conditions. But then things changed.

When Harry was woken up on the Boxing Day he unwrapped his presents, and joined the other students and professors staying at Hogwarts during dinner. Before dinner arrived the usual evening post arrived and Harry was very much surprised when he found a large hawk carrying a big parcel wrapped in green paper heading for him. Nearly every other occupant of the castle was paying attention to the evening issue of The Daily Prophet or their letters, so he cast some revealing charms on his present checking for curses without anyone noticing. Founding none he stood up, opened the box and all his appetite disappeared.

In the box there was a very big head of a half-giant. The eyes were still staring unblinkingly ahead. The expression of pain, fear and pure agony easily recognisable. Harry paled and as the horror of what he was seeing registered he looked up only to see everyone staring at him.

"What is it?" the headmaster asked calmly.

Harry looked at him unseeingly and tried to form words: "I... H... The... It..."

"Potter, did you use the ability to speak? Well, at least we don't need to listen to your harebrained excuses for total lack of intelligence," Snape interrupted from beside Dumbledore.

"Severus," Dumbledore admonished him mildly and prodded Harry once more. "Harry? What is wrong?"

Harry looked for a moment between the headmaster and the Potions Master although he didn't react any other way to the fact that his potions professor had spoken or that he had just been insulted.

After a while he looked straight into the eyes of the headmaster and holding back tears said: "Hagrid."

Dumbledore frowned a little, stood up and went around the table to look into the box. Every other expression was of confusion but when the headmaster finally looked into the box and his ever present twinkle in the eye vanished, the expressions of everyone present looked scared.

The headmaster ordered not to worry but to celebrate and exited the Great hall levitating Harry's 'Christmas present' being closely followed by Harry and professor Snape.

They went into the headmaster's office where the men inspected closely the box and its contents. Harry sat just staring into nothing in a chair in front of Dumbledor's desk thinking 'Another of my friends dead. Why doesn't he kill me instead of those close to me?' Oh yes, he was certain who had given him such a 'gift'. He didn't need the note in the box Dumbledore gave him to read which said: MERRY CHRISTMAS! L.V.

The headmaster made them drink a tea containing a high dosage of Calming Draught but neither Harry nor Snape complained. Harry knew Hagrid had been making a new attempt on gaining the support of the giants that haven't already joined Voldemort. However he couldn't shake the feeling of guilt.

It took only a day 'til Harry woke up from his lethargy and threw himself even more into both his curricular and extra-curricular studies. He had a row with Ron because of Quidditch. He refused to spend over ten hours a week on "messing around". Ron didn't understand that there were more important things than some games. The only thing he seemed to be interested in was winning the Quidditch Cup.

It ended with Harry actually resigning the team, Ron not speaking with him for nearly two months and Hermione throwing Harry worried looks now and then. However with his new found control and incentive, Harry improved his mask of the not-so-troubled Gryffindor Golden Boy and could fool even Hermione. She was a good friend. Very loyal, kind and intelligent but there were things she better not be aware of. Knowledge that could put her in even more risk than she already was. She was good to talk to but Harry didn't want to broach the subject of Dumbledore's manipulations and his own decisions. Even his best friends didn't know about his home-life or about the prophecy.

And so ended Harry's sixth year. He didn't even dread his six weeks long stay at his aunt and uncles because it was to be his last. On the 31th July he was turning 17 which meant he was becoming legally adult in the Wizarding world. With his adulthood the protection placed on Nr. 4 Privet Drive would lose its effect and so Harry was to be moved few days before to the Order headquarters at Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place in London. An unplottable house he inherited from his deceased godfather.

There was something liberating knowing he was to leave and so he endured his aunt and uncle's ridicule as well as the beatings, thrashings that were sure to leave scars. But he didn't worry much about it. It wasn't as if he didn't know how to make them 'disappear' without breaking the decree of underage sorcery. He covered all of his scars and remaining bruises each year before he rejoined the Wizarding world after all. For a long time he hadn't known how he put such glamour on himself wandlessly but he did it. And there was nothing more to it. He was at least glad that after his acceptance to Hogwarts he did no longer have to deal with broken bones. Those were much harder to heal.

And so now Harry stood in his room thinking about everything he might have forgotten (which couldn't have been much) trying not to move much as not to disturb any lingering marks of his punishments for being a "freak". He controlled once more that every bruise, scar or other mark left by the belt uncle Vernon loved so much to use on him was covered. He hid the dark circles under his eyes as he didn't sleep very much. Occlumency helped him with the visions and even lessened the frequency of his nightmares. Harry, however, pushed himself very hard even during his stay at the Dursleys. Working during the days around the house, being beaten in the evening and studying or doing his homework by night. There was not much time left for anything else.

With everything at the ready the Boy Who Lived waited for Lupin who was to pick him up and side-apparate with him to London.


	2. Chapter 2

**2. Chapter – Coming "home"**

When the sun just set down, the doorbell rang. The loud noise from downstairs indicated Vernon heading to open the door to the newcomer. Meanwhile Petunia rushed to open all the locks on Harry's door to let him out. It wouldn't do to let anyone find out exactly where their nephew resided.

"Come out!" Petunia snapped as soon as the door was unlocked.

Harry breathed deeply in, collected his trunk and Hedwig's cage and followed his aunt to let the Dursley's household behind at last. Although his trunk was rather heavy with his many books inside he managed even in his weakened state to carry it down the stairs where Lupin was already waiting in his shabby muggle clothes.

His shabby state was reason enough for Vernon to look a bit more than scandalised. The fact the house guest was a wizard wasn't apparently enough. Vernon muttered under his breath something about freaks being "lazy bastards" and the like.

However Lupin pretended he didn't hear any scathing remarks and was polite as ever. When he saw Harry, his smile grew slightly wider.

"Harry, how are you? Do you have everything packed?"

"Hello, professor Lupin! Nice to see you. Yes I have everything. I have already sent Hedwig ahead of us," Harry answered cheerfully ignoring the disgruntled looks of his relatives.

"Well then, let me have your things. I shall wait for you outside until you say goodbye to your relatives. You won't be seeing each other for a long time." Vernon looked like he might be sick in the prospect of actually exchanging heartbreaking fare wells with his nephew. Harry did wholeheartedly agree with his opinion this time. What was sure, there was no love lost between them. He rather thought that the Dursleys might first purify the whole house from his presence and then celebrate his long desired departure.

Lupin took the trunk and the owl cage, shrunk them and put them in his pockets and with a final goodbye stepped outside.

There was an uncomfortable silence which Harry knew wouldn't be broken neither by his aunt nor uncle. He watched them a little sadly for a minute and with a sigh went to the front door. With a hand of the door handle he turned one last time to see his whale of an uncle and the thin form of his mother's sister.

What do you say to your relatives who brought you up however unwillingly, who practically made you their slave? Whose abuse left many marks on your body and soul? During the last year Harry stopped hating them and started feeling sorry for them. For being forced to take care of someone hated and unwanted.

"I hope you will be able to live in peace from now on," with his parting words and a slight nod Harry exited Nr. 4 Privet House for the last time.

"Everything all right?" Lupin asked.

"Yeah," Harry answered. "Let's go," and without looking back on the house he spent his childhood and the summers of his teenage years he stepped closer to Lupin and let himself be apparated to a small park in London from where they needed only to cross an empty street. As they thought hard the address of Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place the house appeared from nothing between the houses number 11 and 13.

In the entrance hall they were as quiet as possible for they didn't want to wake the portrait of Walburga Black, Sirius' deceased mother. She enjoyed it only too much to shout at anyone who dared to raise his voice or make other loud noises in the hall.

They joined some Order members in the drawing room at the first floor. It seemed like one of the Order meetings just ended and some of them hadn't left just yet.

"Oh Harry dear, you are already here!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed and went to welcome her son's best friend properly.

Harry did his best not to wince as she enveloped him in a firm hug and tried to smile at her and everyone else in the room. He saw Mr. Weasley and Tonks smiling at him. His look lingered a little longer on the dark form of his Potions professor. Severus Snape was discussing something with Kingsley Shackelbolt when the newcomers came in. His expression was stern and slightly disgusted as it always was when he was in the proximity of one Harry Potter. The "brat" really was a near perfect exact copy of his father but for his mother's green eyes.

Mrs. Weasley cupped his cheek in one hand and told him: "We have to feed you some more. You look a little peeky.

"Oh and dear, Ron and Ginny are here. They would like to see you but I am sorry to say that we can't stay here long," she informed him.

Though Harry was a little disappointed that the Weasleys weren't staying at the headquarters he didn't show it. He loved being at the Weasley's family home, the Burrow, but of course he wasn't allowed to visit them because it wasn't safe enough for him. On the other hand he didn't have that much time last summer when he lived for about two weeks at Grimmauld Place and with his friends present he wouldn't be able to spend nearly enough time in the Black library. It was very extensive, although most of the books dealt with the Dark Arts.

"So who's going to babysit me?" Harry asked the few Order members still remaining in the room with a little bit of sarcasm. He knew that he was not to have too much freedom. Who knows what disaster he could cause in the meantime?

Lupin, who in the meantime unshrunk Harry's trunk and Hedwig's cage, ignored the remark and answered instead calmly: "I will be staying in the house most of the time. Also Bill sometimes stays as it is easier for him to commute from here than from the Burrow to Gringott's."

"Don't worry Harry, there are plenty of Order members coming and going for the meetings and the like," Tonks added whose hair was a bubble gum pink as usual. "You won't be here alone."

'As if this was why I asked,' Harry thought. 'I just need to know who is there to keep an eye on me. Though it looks like I could have relatively free reign with Bill, who won't be in the house every day, all day long, and Lupin.'

Snape appeared to be on the verge of delivering some insulting remark but was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley.

"Harry dear, Ron and Ginny are waiting in the kitchen. Why don't you go greet them while I prepare some dinner?"

"That would be great, thank you," Harry said, nodded to the room in general and went to the ground floor to see his best friend and his sister.

When he was in the entrance hall he heard steps coming down the stairs and as he turned around he saw the Potions Master. 'He won't be staying then for dinner. Good,' thought Harry. It didn't matter that he didn't hate his Potions professor anymore but respected him for playing successfully such a dangerous role in the war. Snape hurled insults at him at every opportunity he got. Because of Harry's improvement in potions he had to move on to make scathing remarks about Harry's personality, his fame and his deceased father as well as godfather.

"Mr. Potter. Please try not to set this house on fire," Snape said in a near whisper as he was near his most hated student.

"I am also glad to see you, professor," Harry retorted in an even voice. He didn't even have to fight for control. He didn't like being belittled or having his father's memory insulted, the sarcasm was however nothing new. Since his failed Occlumency lessons in fifth year Harry had to admit that some of the remarks about his father's arrogance weren't exactly unfounded. It still hurt though.

Snape just narrowed his eyes at the answer and headed for the door. As Harry watched his retreating back he shook his head and finally entered the kitchen.

"Harry! Mate!" Ron's shout was nearly deafening. He seemed to have grown even more over the summer. He was now over six feet tall. Harry smiled at him as he silently cursed the Dursley's treatment for the thousandth time. Despite his own growth spurt the previous year he didn't reach more than 5 feet 5 inches. Malnutrition did that to you.

As Ron clapped him hard on the shoulder, he winced a little and so didn't see Ginny come in front of him and hug him swiftly. When she stepped back she blushed and said: "Hi Harry."

Harry looked at her a little confused and as realisation dawned on him he frowned barely noticeably. 'Great. It seems her crush on me hadn't diminished just yet.'

It was clear that she made some effort with her appearance today and it was not really difficult to think for whom she dressed up. It didn't matter that Harry saw her as a little sister. That though he loved her he wasn't in love with her. He rather assumed that he made his feelings for her perfectly clear and beside that that even if he liked her in that way he wouldn't act on any romantic feelings he might have. It was too dangerous to date someone when the most dangerous dark wizard and his lapdogs have tabs on you and those close to you. Harry couldn't willingly put anyone he loved in such a danger.

"Hi, how have you two been?"

"I'm cool. I mean mum and dad are kind of driving us crazy. They don't even let us stay alone at the Burrow," Ron complained.

"Ron!" Mrs. Weasley exclaimed who just entered the kitchen to prepare dinner. "Ginny, could you please prepare the table. I'm afraid, Kingsley and Severus won't eat with us," ("As if we would want the greasy git with us," Ron murmured so that only his sister and Harry heard him.) "so we will be only seven tonight."

Ginny smiled at Harry and went to set up the table.

Meanwhile Ron led Harry to sit at one end of the table and asked him: "How have been the muggles?"

"The usual. I'm glad I won't have to return there anymore," Harry answered evasively.

"It's bad we can't be staying here the whole time. But I guess we will be seeing each other a lot. The Order meetings are pretty often though they don't tell us anything. It's stupid!" Ron said keeping his voice down as he added the last part. It was well known that Mrs. Weasley was strictly against her younger children joining the Order or participating in the war in any way. When the twins dropped out of school in their final year, opened their joke shop and joined the Order to help with their inventions against Voldemort, it didn't go without some ruckus from their mother.

"I know Ron but you know as well as I do that I won't be alone here. Besides I wanted to finish cleaning up some of the remaining rooms in the house. I'll be fine."

"Yeah that's right," Ron didn't think such prospect was anything worth spending time. He looked for a moment awkwardly and then asked Harry if he had heard from Hermione.

"She's written me a few letters. Said she was already finished with all of her homework. I wouldn't be surprised if she has already redone all of it several times," Harry rolled his eyes. He wanted to lighten the mood a bit as he was aware of his friend's uneasiness.

He thought he knew what this was about. His two best friends had been dancing around each other for years. Last year they had often ended up arguing because neither of them had the courage to express his feelings. In the end of the year he advised Ron to write her a letter as it could be easier for him to say what needed to be said easier in written word than face to face. And it seemed it worked.

"So, how are things between the two of you?" he enquired when it was clear the redhead won't be volunteering the information any time soon.

As expected, Ron's ears went red and he blurted out: "Yeah, well about that. We have been together since for about a month."

"I told you it'd work, didn't I?"

"Yeah. You are ok with it?" Ron wanted to make sure. "I mean... we are your friends..."

"Why should I mind?" Harry asked. "It's not like you've been making goo-goo eyes at each other for years. Your dating doesn't necessarily mean the end of our friendship. And besides I want you to be happy," Harry added the last sentence in a near whisper.

"Still thank you. You're really close to 'Mione so I didn't know if you..."

"Oh no! Don't even think of finishing that thought," Harry interrupted. "I was under the impression you knew I see 'Mione as my sister."

Ron looked at him gratefully and changed the subject slightly: "So what about you and some young witch? Are there any that caught you eye?"

Harry frowned a little in response. He really didn't appreciate questions like that. He wasn't interested in dating. Period. For one he didn't want to repeat the 'Cho' fiasco' as he called it. But first and foremost he couldn't put anyone in danger. Besides he wouldn't even have time for a girlfriend in his tight schedule.

"No. I'm not looking for anyone."

"I know that mate but it could lift your spirits," Ron argued. "You've been really out of it since Sirius...What I mean is, you aren't interested in Quidditch and you haven't spent much time with us. All you do nowadays is study."

Harry had bad conscience about not spending more time with his friends but ever since Sirius dying and hearing the prophecy he felt really isolated from them. There'd always been a gap between them because of who he was. But since fifth year the gap have grown even wider. He couldn't explain to them all that was going on. They wouldn't understand and it would put them in unnecessary danger. He loved his friends very much and hated keeping secrets from them but it was easier this way. And safer. For them as well as for him.

He didn't want to let anyone know about the amount of his intense studying. Some of it couldn't be avoided but his improvement in school work could be explained with his reaction to his godfather's death. All of his teachers at least thought so except Snape who was highly suspicious about his new found ability in potions making. He was undeniably better than in the previous years (even though he tried to conceal his efficiency in potions making by doing some intentional mistakes) and Snape had to accept his skill as he continued to finish more or less perfect potions every class.

"Ron, there is war going on and with my luck I'll have to take part in it. You and I both know it. I just can't afford to play Quidditch 'til the war is over. It's simple as that," Harry said with resolution thinking the topic closed. Ron however glanced in the direction where Ginny was setting the cutlery on the table and back at Harry.

"I just think some snogging may be good for you. It's not like there're many girls who'd mind."

"I'm not interested in just a snog or in ANY kind of romantic relationship! I'd appreciate it if you'd accept it," Harry answered a little more harshly than necessary and his frown deepened when he saw his friend glance again at his sister. 'How difficult is it to understand that I'm not interested in any girl and maybe especially Ginny!'

"So how have Fred and George been?" Harry asked to change the subject. He knew his friend wouldn't give up that easily and Hermione'd probably help him with the project 'finding Harry Potter a nice witch', but he didn't want to fight. He was tired, his body ached and he really wanted to eat, wait until everyone was either out of the house or asleep so that he could prepare some healing potions and sleep in a nice soft bed.

Ron seemed to grasp that he was not to press the subject and so started on telling Harry about the twin's abiding success with their joke shop. They weren't only inventing joke items for "young pranksters" but their inventions were also used by the Order in the pursuit and fight against Death Eaters. They were forced to hire two assistants to help them with the flood of customers.

Harry listened intently to the description of various new joke items he hadn't seen just yet and was looking forward to visiting the WWWs (the Weasley's Wizarding Wheezes) when he was next in Diagon Alley. He really liked the twins. Many frowned upon their 'childish' jokes but Harry saw the two genii behind the childish behavior. It seemed at least Dumbledore started to appreciate their wits as well.

Ron continued telling Harry about the twin's new merchandise even when dinner started but Harry didn't mind. He'd have a chance to ask Lupin about the current ongoings - with small hope of finding out much - when the others went home and there really was no one present he also wished to talk to.

"So, Harry, tell me how has your summer been so far?" Lupin asked when the Weasleys went home. As it turned out Tonks was staying with them for the night - or rather with Lupin – but she turned in early.

"It's been fine. How are you?"

"I'm good, Harry. A little tired but that is understandable for there is so much to do."

"Professor, do you think you could tell me something about what the Order has been doing recently or what they know Voldemort's been up to?" Harry asked after a moment of hesitation.

"Harry, please call me Remus. I haven't been your teacher for three years now. And no, I don't think I can tell you much besides that both sides are trying to recruit new members," Lupin said with disapprovement which made to Harry perfectly clear that the "Harry Potter-mustn't-know-anything-about-the-war"-policy hadn't been abandoned. Well, he really needed to think about concrete plans to gain some information if he wanted to survive or even win the war for the side of light.

"Ok, Remus. I understand," Harry said instead of showing his frustration with the whole situation.

Though his father's friend must have recognized some of his dissatisfaction for he continued: "Harry, you're very young and this is a war. You don't – and can't – understand the danger it entails. You can't help in any way but stay safe at Hogwarts."

Harry didn't know what he was supposed to respond to such blatant ignorance of the facts. He just swore in his mind. It was so typical. He was supposed to be safe at Hogwarts (as if he ever was safe there) but at the same time The Boy Who Lived was expected to save the day. He just couldn't do anything right, could he? So he just nodded and looked down at the old table so that Lupin stopped explaining or rather angering him further. It seemed he wasn't the only one with the wish of change in the subject.

"So, you are turning 17 tomorrow night. I guess you are aware what Majority means?"

"Yeah. Madam Pomfrey explained it to all of the muggleborns in the beginning of last year." And Harry was glad for it. He would have probably freaked out, hadn't he known that. Because when wizards and witches come of age – at the nearly exact moment they were born -, they experience a surge in their magical powers. This boost in power is usually accompanied by some amount of pain. The more powerful you become, the more painful the transition from childhood-magic to adult-magic is. But beside the discomfort the individual in question experiences, the sudden magical outbursts can be quite dangerous to the child as well as persons in close proximity.

"I've already secured the room you usually stay in with Ron for you," Lupin informed him. "So there shouldn't be any kind of damage."

"Thanks. Though I think, I'll continue in sorting Sirius' old room and sleeping there as soon as I can."

"I thought so. I've seen you already put some good work there last summer. I would offer you my help with the cleaning but I don't think I will have the time."

"That's alright. I mean I don't have much else to do."

They sat in silence, Harry tracing the scorched marks on the table, and Remus watching him from the opposite side of the table. After a while Lupin cleared his throat and said: "Harry, I thought that we could visit the Diagon Alley on your birthday. You should be ok in the morning as you were born half an hour after midnight so you will be able to get some sleep and then, after breakfast, I thought about going."

Harry couldn't believe the proposal. He was though still a bit suspicious as to the conditions to their/his outing.

"That'd be brilliant! Is there something – maybe some kind of security measure – I should be aware of?"

"No. Of course there might be some Order members or Aurors but they are nowadays always patrolling the Alley. It will be only you and I, enjoying the day, shopping or doing whatever you like in the Alley."

The green eyed teenager didn't really trust there were Order members AND Aurors at all times patrolling, he wasn't however going to argue. He wanted to go to the wizarding shopping centre. He was in need of some new books, clothes (when they have time he might actually get himself some casual clothes so that he could get rid of Dudley's old cast offs) and he really had to visit the apothecary. Although Dobby helped him clean out the cellar at Grimmauld Place and prepare it for a lab, he really wanted to first look at the equipment he would buy for his own potions lab. He had already decided that he would invest more in his lab than he did in his school potions supplies. Furthermore he required several, probably different cauldrons and as he wasn't sure which ones he couldn't entrust the task of acquiring them to his devoted house-elf friend Dobby.

He only hoped he would be able to get away from Lupin at least for a while. Some business was better done alone.

"That will be great! Thank you, Remus," he exclaimed, trying to sound very cheerful about the prospect and grateful for such a birthday present. "If only I had the list of books for my seventh year I'd be able to get everything at once," he added as an afterthought.

"I think your Hogwarts letter may arrive tomorrow. Professor Dumbledore hinted that you should be able to get everything for your last year at Hogwarts that day."

"Oh. That'd be great," Harry said. "Hm, do you mind me turning in already? I'm kind of tired."

"Yes, of course. Get some sleep," Lupin assured him and waved him of when his friend's son stood up and with a "Goodnight!" went for the door.

Harry was glad when the door in old Sirius' room closed behind him. He was in fact really looking forward to sleeping however there was still something he would have to do once Lupin was also in bed if he wished to get some good night rest. With all the bruises and cuts covering his whole body. In this instance he was quite happy only he himself, Lupin and Tonks slept at the house. It would be that much easier to snuck back down in to the cellar where he would use his school cauldron and ingredients to make a pain potion as well as some strong healing potion. As some of the wounds weren't exactly recent there will probably be some scars left but it would be still better than if it all had to heal on its own.

Meanwhile he looked around the room. It was as he left it the previous summer. There really wasn't that much to do anymore as he had already finished cleaning t and sorting through Sirius' stuff. Beside some photos of his godfather, his father and Lupin he put everything else in the attic and now had his own room.

Last summer when he found out about him having inherited the Black family home he didn't want to accept it as it practically was Sirius' second prison. But after he had given it some serious thought he decided he might as well put some good use to it apart from allowing the headmaster and his lapdogs to use it as headquarters and living quarters for some of the members.

He rather liked the idea of having his own room, his own place to stay. His privacy. He might as well have it in his own house.

He searched the house from top to bottom. Decided on setting up his own potions lab in the cellar that wasn't being used – he wasn't even sure Dumbledore or anyone else for that matter was aware of its existence as it was entered through a secret door on the ground floor under the stairs. There was a room full of fine wine and mead and the second room contained an old lab which had seen better days.

However, finding a room for himself was a bit harder. He visited and revisited nearly every room in the house but eventually by luck he discovered a secrete passageway on the third floor directly connecting old Sirius' and his younger brother Regulus' old rooms. He thought it brilliant and had a feeling it might prove itself useful in the future. Though he was in the beginning a bit reluctant on moving in Sirius' room which he liked from the setup and window view better than Regulus', he swallowed his guilt and sorrow for a man he barely knew and set to work to make it inhabitable.

Harry was really glad Lupin didn't stay up for very long as it was getting late and he would need few hours to brew his potions. He took his invisibility cloak from his jacket pocket, put it on and crept silently downstairs carrying his school bag over one shoulder with his old school cauldron, stirrer, knife and several vials with ingredients he would need for the brewing.

When he was on the ground floor he looked around to make sure, he really was the only awake inhabitant of the house and slowly snuck through the darkness towards the wall under the stairs which hid the entrance to the cellar. He didn't hesitate there and put his right hand at a place about 3.3 feet above the ground. He grasped the door handle he knew would be there instead of the stone wall it seemed like he was touching and pushed down. The wall or better to say the door opened and as he stepped on the stairs leading to his destination the torches on the walls all lit up.

When he entered the, for now, unfinished lab he left out a breath he didn't even know he was holding. However he couldn't deny he felt relieved in the confines of his potions lab.

He immediately put the bag on the clean desk and begun to set up his working station. When everything was where he wanted it he put some water in the cauldron and lit up a fire under it the muggle way. How he was looking forward to being allowed to use magic whenever he wanted.

He started to prepare the ingredients for the pain potions which would take him only an hour to brew. It was quite an easy potion to brew and he could use some pain reliever by about now. Also it would be easier for him to concentrate on the brewing process of the healing potion. He remembered from class what could happen if you didn't pay it your full attention. Though his potion in class ended up well (to Snape's chagrin) some of his classmates weren't that successful. Neville haven't made it to the NEWT potions class which was quite lucky for him as he would probably killed himself during the very first lesson where they were supposed to attempt to brew the Draught of Living Death. A volatile potion and by far the hardest they had made up to that point.

The healing potion Harry had in mind wasn't quite as difficult as the Draught but it didn't mean a mistake couldn't cause an explosion, melt the cauldron or to vapour poisonous gas.

When the water reached its burning point Harry threw the first ingredient, chopped dandelion roots, in the cauldron and stirred clockwise until it was time to add black beetle eyes and crushed moonseed.

He continued to chop, cut, crush, stir and add ingredients to the cauldron till the potion had its usual red colour and was slightly thicker than water. He extinguished the fire under the cauldron and fetched clean vials he found in the lab the year before and with the help of Dobby made usable again. He filled them and stoppered all but one which he downed in one swig. It tasted like rotten tomatoes but the effect was instantaneous. He felt the pain fade from his arms, legs, back and head. His whole body was lighter.

With a smile the black haired boy put the filled vials aside and cleared the cauldron and his working space only to put it all back in place and set up a mixture of water and murtlap essence (his new improvement to the healing potion) in the cauldron and let it slowly come to boil.

Meanwhile he prepared all the necessary ingredients going once more over the brewing steps in his mind. He rather thought that he must have at least some talent in potion brewing as he didn't need any kind of instructions to brew potions he had already managed to make successfully once. It didn't however hurt to be careful. After all it was better to be safe than sorry.

He added the ingredients to the simmering mixture and stirred accordingly. Sometime he needed to regulate the fire which was slightly more complicated doing it the muggle way but he managed just fine.

After two hours he looked into the cauldron and his lips curled a bit up. 'I don't know what Snape was always going on about,' Harry thought. 'It doesn't seem like I have no idea whatsoever about potions.' Well of course he knew now that the lack of background knowledge and his lack of effort had contributed to his failed potions in his first five years at Hogwarts. During the summer before his sixth year he read some helpful books about the art of potions making and taught himself a spell that prevented anyone beside him to add ingredients into his cauldron so that the Slytherins couldn't anymore ruin his work. Astonishingly he rarely failed to hand in a perfect potion nowadays. He found that there was nothing wrong to be said about his healing potion and so with a final stir he extinguished the fire once more and began cleaning his utensils while the potion cooled off.

Half an hour later he poured the contents of the cauldron into vials and again left one open for use. After he cleaned his cauldron and put all he brought with himself back into his bag he took of his clothes and dropped the glamour he was wearing and carefully applied the healing potion on the many gashes and bruises wincing when he did his best to put the ointment on his back. He would have to repeat this process for a few days for it to take full effect on the wounds he acquired at the beginning of the summer, however, Harry could already feel the ointment starting to work on his wounds.

He put his clothes back on and with a school bag full of vials and potions utensils he hid under his invisibility cloak and snuck silently to his room.

He just put everything safely away, checked his watch and changed into his pyjamas. It was already near four o'clock in the morning and so he just hoped Lupin wouldn't mind him sleeping in. He crept into bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow he was fast asleep.


	3. Chapter 3

**3. Chapter – Becoming adult**

"Bloody sun," The BoyWho Lived cursed though his voice was muffled by pillow. He didn't have any dreams, visions or nightmares and for that he was grateful. He turned once more in his wide bed, grunted and opened his eyes. He squinted in the light and reached with a sigh for his glasses on the bedside table and checked his watch.

'Wow, I guess he didn't mind me sleeping in after all,' Harry thought as he remembered what happened the day before.

When he was finally showered and clothed it was already nearly noon. But he couldn't find it in him to feel ashamed as the sleep really did him good. He felt refreshed as not in a long time. It could have been also caused by the lack of pain he was feeling.

"Hello, Remus," Harry greeted the older man when he entered the kitchen.

Remus looked up and smiled at Harry. "Ahh, awake at last. Good morning."

"I couldn't fall asleep last night. I'm sorry," Harry apologised. "Would you like some sandwiches?" He asked as he went to the cupboard to set out all he needed to make himself an early lunch.

"No, but thank you," the older man responded and turned again to the book he was reading.

With his lunch ready, Harry sat at the table and took the morning paper still lying there and looked through the news. He wasn't very surprised when he didn't find any articles about recent Death Eater' attacks as Voldemort was lying low for the time being. Harry was certain that it meant his enemy was preparing something big. If he was the Dark Lord he would probably take advantage of the protection on the Dursley's home which would fail the night he turned 17. After all Voldemort proved in the last years that Harry Potter was nearly constantly under protection. It wasn't different now but Harry didn't think Voldemort was aware of him having already left his childhood' home.

And maybe, just maybe Tom Riddle planned on Harry's 'hero complex'. Well, in this instance he couldn't be more wrong. Harry would probably feel sad and a tad guilty about the Dursleys suffering but on the other hand he wouldn't move heaven and earth to save them.

"Remus, do you know whether the Dursleys will be under some kind of protection?" However it wouldn't hurt to take precautions now, would it?

The werewolf raised his eyebrows at the sudden question and asked: "Why do you ask?"

"Well, the wards at Privet Drive will fall this night, won't they?" the green eyed teenager reasoned. "I mean won't Voldemort try to attack the house either because he assumes I'm still there or because he thinks if he attacks my relatives I'll try to come and help them? With the wards down he'd have much higher chance in succeeding..."

Lupin watched him thoughtfully for several minutes. He frowned at the thought of Harry putting himself in danger to save someone but he couldn't deny the logic of his friend's son. He asked himself why they didn't think of it before but with the Order's agenda they didn't really have much time and thought to spare.

Meanwhile Harry continued to eat his breakfast ignoring the gaze of his former professor. It wasn't really hard to guess what the man was thinking as it was clear to Harry that the Order hadn't taken any steps in securing his relatives safety. Sure it probably wasn't the most important thing to do in the war but if you were aware of the enemy's targets why not prevent the attack from happening?

That was one more aspect of the Order of the Phoenix the Chosen One didn't approve of. The Light side often engaged in unnecessary activities and ignored the bigger side of the war. They only reacted to the Dark side's pursuits and were constantly on the defensive. Harry's opinion on that matter was that it was sometimes better to take a more active position and act instead of reacting. That way you could reach your goals more easily and most times your action could prevent or at least hamper the attacks and actions.

"But Voldemort doesn't know where your relatives live." Lupin's argument earned him only raised eyebrow and a short sardonic laugh from Harry.

"You mean to tell me dear Voldy hasn't yet found out where I lived?" When Harry saw Lupin opening his mouth to offer some further 'reason' he went on: "Old Voldy's been at large for over two years. He's many lackeys at high position at the ministry with access to every and each record. Don't think Riddle a fool. Certainly, he's insane but that doesn't mean he isn't intelligent."

Remus seemed surprise at his authoritative voice but at the moment he didn't care. It never did any good to underestimate your foe. Harry stood up and went to wash his dishes. When he was about to dry his hands Lupin said: "It might be best if I inform Albus."

'The best idea you had this morning,' Harry thought but answered instead: "Yeah. It might be. Just in case." With that he exited the kitchen to start cleaning old Regulus' bedroom.

Harry spent the afternoon sorting through the things Siruis' younger brother accumulated in his room throwing most things out. He wasn't near finished when it was time for dinner but he was satisfied with the work he had done.

One of the things he found out while living at the Dursley's was how relaxing manual work could be. While using your hands you can also ponder different matters more efficiently than if you were forcing yourself to solve some problem or the other. Even though he often silently cursed his relatives for practically (ab-)using him like a house-elf he appreciated the lesson.

Going down the stairs from the third floor he was deciding on what to make himself for dinner but his thoughts were interrupted when he took notice of the smells coming from the kitchen. When he entered he saw Lupin already setting the table for two.

"Harry, I hope you don't mind casserole for dinner?" the man asked as he raised his head.

"No, that would be perfect. Thank you," he was really surprised. He wasn't used to being made dinner (except of at the Burrow and Hogwarts).

When they both swallowed a few mouth fulls Lupin inquired after Harry's day though Harry got the impression that he wanted to speak about something else.

"I've just been sorting through things in Regulus' old room. How was your day?"

"Fine, fine. We put some wards on your relative's home," Remus added after a while. He said it as if it was the most common thing to do in one's afternoon. But the black haired teen understood the true notion behind the nonchalant way and decided to ignore it. For one, rubbing someone's fault or mistake under their nose wasn't something that corresponded with the Golden Boy persona and second Harry was just glad the Order did something. So instead he changed the subject.

"When shall we go to the Diagon Alley tomorrow?"

"Well, there're usually less people in the morning so I thought about leaving here around nine. If you're not sleeping in," Remus teased him. If he had known how much Harry was allowed to sleep during the summer, he probably would confine him to bed for a few days. However, his dead friend's son wasn't about to confide anything any time soon.

"Ok. Thanks again and don't worry. I'll be up and ready in time."

"Good. The Weasleys wanted to throw you a birthday party but they can't make it tomorrow."

"I know. Ron said something about celebrating when we see each other next though he didn't specify anything," Harry said.

He remembered the apologising look his best friend gave him while informing him about it. Harry understood it was dangerous time with the war raging on but he didn't see any reason in keeping him and his friends separated even now when he was staying at Grimmauld Place, one of the securest places in whole Britain. It didn't make much sense to him. He wasn't angry or disappointed that he didn't get to celebrate his birthday with his friends or even that he didn't see them as often. He was used to things as they were. What pissed him off was the fact that this whole situation reeked of Dumbledore. The only question was to what end.

"I wouldn't expect them until the weekend. Arthur is rather busy at the ministry," Remus said. It was Monday.

'Great,' Harry thought but said nothing.

"It would be best if you took a Dreamless Sleep potion tonight so you don't have to be in pain." As Harry looked at him questioningly he explained. "Severus left a vial here for you."

'Right. And the sun sets in the east,' the black haired teen thought sarcastically. He wasn't about to believe the Potions Master had done something nice for him voluntarily. Dumbledore. The only thing that could make sense of this 'kindness'. Was he really trying to make the transition easier on Harry or was the Boy Who Lived to be unaware of something else? He put the matter in the back of his mind and concentrated back on his companion.

"That was thoughtful of him."

Lupin ignored the retort and instead stood up to clean after the dinner. While they washed the dishes in silence Bill entered the kitchen and with a cheerful "Hello!" hugged Harry tightly.

Harry smiled at the oldest Weasley son. "Hi! How have you been?"

"Busy but fine. And at the moment starving!" was the reply. Harry liked Bill even though they didn't see each other that much. He appreciated Bill's kindness, honesty and skill. He thought Bill was like a big brother he never had.

"I leave you two to talk. Harry, if you need anything just call me. I'm staying at the same floor. Otherwise, I'll see you in the morning," Remus said and with a cup of tea in hand he left.

Harry prepared his own cup and joined Bill at the table while the other shuffled down the casserole as if he hadn't eaten for a week.

"Anything new? How has Fleur been doing?" Harry asked.

"Nothing much, beside me working in England. I really didn't want to leave Egypt but I just can't leave my family alone at such time," Bill answered in a serious tone. "And Fleur shall be moving to England as well. She's gotten a job at the PR in Gringotts."

"Wow! Say hello to her for me and congratulations!" Harry was happy for them. Though he couldn't really say he liked the French part veela much, he respected the feelings Fleur and Bill felt for each other and supported their relationship despite the disapproval of many.

"I will. She says hello too, you know. You might meet her before you leave for Hogwarts, you know."

"That would be nice. Is she... is she also going to work for the Order?" Harry asked uncertainly. He wasn't really sure if he wanted to know.

Bill frowned a little and said: "I don't know." He was probably the only one who was aware of Harry's opinion of the Order of the Phoenix. He accepted Harry's point of view even though they didn't share it on the whole.

They went on to discuss this and that and after Bill finished and put his plate away he pulled a money pouch out of his inner pocket and threw it to Harry. When the green eyed teen raised an eyebrow in question he explained: "I drew some money for you from your account. It should be enough for your school supplies."

"Thank you," Harry responded while trying to hold his temper in check. He really wanted, no he needed to visit the Gringotts. The last he was there was in his third year but since then he hadn't set foot in the white building not even seen his key to his vault. He really wished to check on how much money he had left there. He wished to be the one to go down there and draw his money. And last but not least, he couldn't shake the impression that someone wanted to keep him from the bank.

"Do you have the key from my vault?" Harry asked innocently while he played with the string of the money pouch. "I mean now, that I am about to be adult..."

"Yes. Here it is," Bill took the small golden key of another inner pocket and gave it to Harry.

'Good, he doesn't suspect anything,' the black haired teen thought. Even though he knew Bill and liked him, he didn't trust him enough to tell him the real reason for asking for the key. He also wasn't about to point out the fact that the money won't be enough for what he wished to acquire in Diagon Alley. After all he needed a good reason for Remus to allow him a quick stop at the goblin's bank.

Before Bill went to bed and Harry headed for the library they chatted about Bill's work and the other members of the Weasley family. They even discussed the books on curses but they never mentioned the war.

In the library Harry found a book about Legilimency and made himself comfortable in an old armchair. He only raised his head when it neared midnight. It was then that he put the book away and went to get his sleeping pants from his room and with a new change of clothes made his way to the bedroom he used to sleep in with Ron. He closed the door behind himself and laid his fresh clothes on 'Ron's' bed. He paced around the room for nearly quarter hour thinking about his coming of age.

True he didn't particularly like the idea of more pain but it wasn't as if he wasn't used to pain, was it? He argued the matter of the sleeping potion left for him (on Dumbledore's order). In the end he decided that the discomfort of Majority was better than anything the headmaster might have in store for him. He didn't want any kind of charms put on him. He strongly opposed being controlled and manipulated. So, for the first time staying at Grimmauld Place he locked the door with a key. A key that enabled him to make said door impenetrable. A door at Number 12 locked with such a key couldn't be opened by any means. Alohomora or any such kind of spells.

Harry didn't want to think of the consequences. He was sure that Remus or the person who was ordered to watch over him and probably monitor the influx in his magic wouldn't be punished cruelly like by a master such as Voldemort. Nevertheless he knew Dumbledore won't take kindly to having failed in the attempt in 'watching over' and controlling his 'Golden Boy'.

'Watching over...' Harry thought. 'Phineas Nigellus!' And with that realisation he took the empty portrait of the wall and put it in the adjoining small bathroom facing the wall. He shut the door to his bedroom firmly and with a relieved sigh he sat on his bed.

That was close. He didn't want to think what the Black ancestor would have reported to the current headmaster. He was aware of the spells put around the door but he couldn't detect anything beside the charms securing the room against magical outbursts. There was nothing else as far as he was concern but it never did any good to underestimate the 'enemy'.

'I'm being paranoid,' the Gryffindor' side of Harry reprimanded him. The Slytherin', more careful side of him however reminded him that it was better to be over-careful than to be over-trusting.

The young wizard applied his ointment on the healing wounds and laid on top of the covers.

While waiting for midnight Harry contemplated how his relationship with the last remaining trustworthy Marauder turned out to be. In his third year Harry came to see Lupin as some kind of a mentor what with him aiding him in the fight against Dementors, the Azkaban guards. Though he heard from Lupin neither before nor after his third year at Hogwarts he was glad he learned his father's friend and he really liked him.

At the time he hadn't given it much thought why he hadn't contact with the werewolf since his parents died. It never crossed his mind how odd it was from someone claiming to like him even to have loved him as a baby to not even try to come and see him while growing up. Not even after he re-entered the wizarding world.

With Sirius' being on the run and the happenings of his fourth and fifth year Harry didn't think about his father's friend(s) very much. But in the aftermath of the battle at the Ministry in his fifth year Harry couldn't help but consider all of his connections and friendships in the wizarding world.

With time questions were added to the list of things he didn't know or didn't understand. Concerning Lupin it didn't help Harry's feeling of guilt over Sirius' death that he wasn't even in the background supporting his dead friend's son. Harry had to open his eyes to the fact that Remus entered only his world (at least after his third year) due to Sirius. Lupin was there because his friend was there not because of Harry.

In the end of summer holiday before Harry's sixth year he was welcomed by Lupin cheerfully, although he got the distinct feeling as if Remus were pretending to have forgotten everything that happened at the Ministry. That he did indeed pretend showed in his changed attitude towards Harry. There were times where he would be almost too cheerful and happy being with his friend's son but at other times he was definitely cold.

Harry knew the werewolf wouldn't want to hurt him. At least not directly. But he was aware of the unwavering loyalty towards Albus Dumbledore Remus showed with each and every action. Only this would lead him not to trust him with any serious matters but with everything Lupin did or rather did not do since he was left on the Dursley's doorstep it meant that Harry had to put on a mask every time he was with him.

Harry couldn't help but feel sad and disappointed by that but he survived worse things than lack of support.

The messy haired teen glanced at his watch and saw that it was a minute to twelve. As was his tradition he counted the seconds to midnight and hearing the chime of the church chiming in the distance he made a silent wish and said: "Happy birthday, Harry!"

After that he thought about what he wanted and had to buy in the Diagon Alley. With the mental list nearly complete he checked the hour once again and was surprised it was only minutes 'til his Majority.

He turned on his back, stretched and tried to calm down breathing deeply in and out.

It started as a light dull ache in his chest. Harry continued his breathing exercise while the ache intensified and spread from his chest in all directions reaching the tips of his hands and feet.

The ache turned to pain. He felt all of his muscles painfully spasm. His head ached but it wasn't the stabbing pain he used to feel every time Voldemort was emotional. He tried to stay calm but couldn't help the whimper that escaped his mouth. He didn't want to scream. He wouldn't scream.

'I won't scream. I won't scream,' Harry repeated his mantra. And he didn't. He didn't scream. But even for him the pain was too much to stay entirely silent. He whimpered, moaned and opened his mouth in a silent scream but he didn't give in.

He stayed nearly silent even when something burst from his chest. He didn't curse all deity as he felt like something inside of him was ripped to shreds. He didn't scream when the walls inside him were crushed and his magic was released from its confines.

Eventually the bouts of magic decreased in their frequency and intensity. With it the pain Harry was experiencing lessened.

After a while Harry could feel his magic flow freely through his whole body. His magic hummed. And the black haired young man couldn't help but feel free in spite of the dull ache his Majority left behind.

He snuggled under the covers turned on his side and with a smile on his face fell asleep.

Harry woke up at seven the next day. He stretched languidly and opened his eyes. He couldn't believe he was in the same room he fell asleep in the night before. The room was a complete mess. Nothing but the bed he was in stayed at the same place. He looked around and tried to comprehend what happened. As he was in pain he didn't notice the effect his freed and new magic had on the surroundings. Sure the walls looked just fine but everything else in the room was moved, destroyed or broken.

He turned his head looking at the bedside table that astonishingly survived his Majority. When he saw his glasses on it his eyes went wide. How could he see without his glasses? He went from nearly blind yesterday to seeing better than ever now.

"What the hell?" he muttered.

He didn't know much about coming of age but he was quite certain his short-sightedness shouldn't have been influenced (or better to say corrected) by the influx of magic.

He reached his hand for the glasses and nearly jumped when said hand came to view. It wasn't his hand! Well, it wasn't the hand he remembered from the night before. His hand was rather small and fingers short, was it not? So how come he now saw a rather elegant hand with thin long fingers?

He compared both of his hands but his right hand looked the same as his left one. This was really strange. He hadn't drunk any Polyjuice potion or anything like it (at least he wasn't aware of it). So what had happened during the night?

He was pretty sure the bedroom was accessible only through the door which he locked with the key that prevented entry with any means except the key itself. So he was definitely alone in the room. And had been since he had closed the door behind himself. He even put the portrait of Phineas Nigellus in the bathroom so as not to be spied upon.

He decided he needed to ascertain the change in his eyesight first. So, for the moment he ignored the view of the strange hand as it took hold of his glasses. As he put them on the room became blurry.

'Ok, so I definitely don't need glasses anymore.'

He put them back on the bedside table and decided it was best to first try to clean the room as best he could than shower and prepare for the visit to Diagon Alley.

With determination he stood up but had to steady himself on the bed as he swayed due to sudden dizziness.

Not for the first time since he woke up did he think 'What the hell!' He waited until his head stopped spinning and then he righted himself up slowly once again. When he regained his equilibrium he glanced at his feet and stared for a moment. His baggy sleeping pants had always been hanging from his waist which it was still doing. However now he could see his ankles. The pants didn't reach the floor as it did before. He had grown. Overnight.

'I can see. My hands look different. I've grown,' Harry counted the changes in his mind. But try as he might he couldn't come up with a credible explanation.

He abandoned his previous plan for the bathroom. It was strange walking in his suddenly taller body but he managed without falling down.

Harry nearly freaked when he saw the reflection in the mirror. Only the knowledge of the portrait of Phineas still in the room made him stop from cursing or asking the stranger in the mirror who he was. Though, this knowledge didn't prevent him to be silently freaking out, or hyperventilating.

In the mirror he could observe a young man with bright green confused eyes that looked back at him from the thin, pale face. Above the right eye a lightning shaped scare was visible but partly covered by the fringe of jet black hair. The hair wasn't messy and short. It was rather smooth and reached nearly his shoulders.

He watched the man in the mirror and the only two things that proved his theory right were the killing-curse-green eyes and the scar on the forehead. The young man in the mirror who looked rather lost, was indeed he himself.

'No way! There has to be an explanation!' Harry was very nearly seething. Another aspect of his life that could be categorised as abnormal. He so hated it when such things happened to him. Why the hell couldn't he be normal like everybody else? Why couldn't he come to his Majority without any accompanying disasters?

And who was he?

Harry compared the stranger's face to his own. Well to his old face. His new face was thinner and not as round-shaped. His cheek bones were also higher. His lips were not as full as the previous ones. The only thing, that staid unchanged, were his eyes. Nevertheless, if he hadn't known the reflection in the mirror was he, he would have denied the man in the bathroom was Harry Potter. Or at least the boy, teenager, young adult, or whoever was known under the name Harry Potter, The Saviour of the Wizarding World.

The young wizard took a step away from the mirror to have a better view at his upper body. Again his 'the-man-in-the-mirror-is-I'-theory was proved right. It seemed that the concealment charm he was used to wearing at all times came off during his Majority and as he remembered nearly all of his old and new scars he was little startled to see them on the leaner taller body of the 'stranger in the mirror'. The one positive thing he became aware of was that his newest wounds were either completely healed or in place of them there could be seen new scars. Good, at least he would not have to apply the healing balm he brewed when he arrived at Grimmauld Place. But still, there was this matter of his changed appearance.

'Ok. Ok. So, the person am I,' Harry thought, breathing deeply to calm himself. 'What happened? What could have caused my appearance to change overnight and my eyesight to be corrected? And who am I really?'

The wheels in his mind were by this time positively reeling. As far as he knew, nothing of this sort ever occurred. The only thing he was sure about was that it wasn't normal and that he would have to take some measures in order to conceal this turn of events before he found out what the hell happened!

'I may as well put the bedroom back in order while I'm thinking this through.' With this thought Harry glared at his new reflection as if to say "And don't you dare contradict me!" and with determination he turned on his heel.

However, it soon became clear that "putting the room in order" had a little hitch. The young wizard of course assumed he would make use of his magical powers as he was finally allowed to do so. He forgot to consider the amount of power he now had at his disposal.

His first attempt at repairing the second bedside table turned nearly disastrous. Instead of mending the table, there were even more pieces than before.

"Shit!" Harry cursed under his breath. He ran a hand through his hair but this gesture didn't reassure him as it usually did as even his hair now felt differently to him. It was still silky but otherwise there were quite a few differences between his old and new hair to be pointed out.

He closed his eyes for a minute to get his wits about him. Concentrating very hard on using only the slightest bit of his powers Harry once again opened his eyes and pointed his wand at the destroyed bedside table.

"Reparo!"

And the table mended itself. Harry couldn't help but sigh in relief. At least something worked though if he had to concentrate quite that hard on using mundane spells it would be really difficult. He shook his head and went on to do his best in repairing everything in sight.

After half an hour, few overdid spells and many curses Harry finally put his wand down and looked around the room. He was covered in sweat from concentrating so hard but everything was as it should be. Well everything but the room's occupant.

When he put Phineas' portrait back in the room and stepped in the shower, he closed his eyes for a moment and let the water fall on his face and back. After a few minutes he opened his eyes and started to wash his hair thinking about his current situation. There was no time to consider what happened, as he was supposed to be at breakfast soon in order to go to Diagon Alley, where he really did need to go. Therefore, the young wizard thought about possible at least temporary solutions.

Drying himself of, he thought that there was nothing to it. He would have to wear a glamour. This would conceal his new appearance but he probably couldn't do anything with his new height. He guessed he was now about 5' 9" tall which was a considerable change. Well, at least for him.

Thinking about the famous Harry Potter glasses, he came to the conclusion that it would be in his best interest if he kept his real eyesight a secret. His enemies wouldn't expect him to be able to see without his glasses and someday that could prove itself advantageous. Maybe, he could find some glasses which would suit him better than his old round ones. He was not a kid anymore, was he now?

In front of the mirror Harry concentrated on his previous appearance. When he opened his eyes after a while he once again saw the reflection of The Boy Who Lived as he was known.

'Now I just need my glasses,' Harry thought. He summoned them from the bedroom and changed the glasses on second try. After that he pulled the vial of dreamless sleeping potion from his now almost fitting trousers at least as for the length (the same couldn't be said about the width) and with regret he emptied it into the drain. He really would have liked to keep it. It was such a waste. However he had to return the vial to Lupin and putting the vial into another vial would render it useless. Once the vial is opened it has to be taken.

With a final look in the mirror Harry summoned his 'The Boy Who Lived' mask and went in the bedroom to deal with the last headmaster of the Black family. He hung the portrait back on the wall and without looking back he exited the room.


	4. Chapter 4

**4. Chapter – Diagon Alley**

"Happy birthday, Harry!" greeted Remus the young wizard when he entered the kitchen.

Harry faked a slight smile and thanked Lupin. His birthday was the last thing on his mind. Alas he had to postpone contemplating other more important matters.

It was kind of ironic if you thought about it. It was the first time, he could celebrate his birthday in some other way than nursing his own wounds, or working his arse off around the Dursley' household. However, he couldn't master to find any kind of excitement or anticipation for this important day. On second thought, it could do him some good going to Diagon Alley. Perhaps this way he could gain some perspective on the new catastrophe in his life.

The young man mentally shook himself and took in the small pile of presents on the table. The werewolf followed his gaze and commented: "Those came during the night. The one on top is from me."

"Thank you, Remus," Harry answered. "Do I have time to open them or shall I wait 'til we come back?"

"No, that's fine. Go ahead and see what you got. Seventeenths is quite important."

Harry grinned despite himself. 'Maybe I can manage to be interested in my presents after all' he mused grabbing a toast and a cup of tea on his way to the end of table where the presents were lying.

He opened the present from Remus first. It was a book on advanced defence against the dark arts and when he opened the book to look inside a photograph fell out. He scooped it up and stared at a picture of his father, godfather, Remus and mother with him in her arms. Apparently the photo was taken not long before his parent's deaths as the baby looked around a year old.

He couldn't prevent his eyes from watering. This was too much. He still hadn't regained his calmness after staring in a stranger's face in the mirror and now he was faced with his parents and godfather. Merlin, he missed them! Although he never got to know his mother and father (or those he thought of as his parents as he couldn't be certain after the newest revelations) he craved some parental figure in his life. He had longed for someone to be there for him for so long. For someone to unconditionally love him and support him as parents or guardians should. For someone to lean on.

He thought Sirius would be that special someone for him. But even that didn't happen. His godfather didn't have the chance to be there for him.

And now, now he was an adult and even though he still missed his parents he wasn't sure if he even could accept a parental figure in his life. He had been forced to stand on his own for such a long time that he wasn't sure he wanted or was able to put his trust in someone.

He stroked the faces of Lily, James and Sirius in an uncertain voice said: "Thank you."

Remus who tried not to let his own tears fall said: "They would all be proud of you." and with a quick one arm embrace he returned to his open Daily Prophet.

Harry wiped a tear from a corner of his eye and continued opening his presents.

He got a book on wizarding traditions from Hermione, a Quidditch poster and chocolate frogs from Ron, a moleskin pouch from Tonks and Kingsley Shacklebolt (a pouch only he could open, a very secure device for storing small but important artefacts), a cake and some homemade cookies from Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, an assortment of latest products from the Weasley twins and lastly a book on curse-breaking and another one on wards from Bill. Bill had written him also a short note.

_Dear Harry,_

_Happy birthday!_

_Wanted to wish you in person but had to_

_go to work. Hope this will come in handy._

_Enjoy your trip!_

_Bill_

When Harry unwrapped his last present he sat opposite Remus to finish his breakfast. He was already looking forward to reading the books he got. They seemed interesting. Beside that he was thinking of the coming day and what else he wanted to do in Diagon Alley.

He could really use some distraction from the constant maelstrom in his mind. He so wanted to clear the recent mystery in his life.

"How are you feeling, Harry?" asked Lupin. "Do you think you are well enough to visit Diagon Alley?"

"Yeah, I am." Harry searched the pockets of his overlarge trousers and set the empty vial of the Dreamless Sleeping potion on the table in front of the werewolf.

"Thanks for that, by the way," he added nonchalantly with a little smile.

"I'm glad it helped. I wanted to check on you" ('I'm sure you did...') "but your door wouldn't open."

'Good thinking, Harry! – or whoever I am,' the young wizard thought, though he knew he had to give Lupin at least some kind of explanation for this phenomenon. He was just glad Lupin wasn't aware of the special key or he was under the impression that Harry himself had no idea about it. It made him a lot less suspicious.

"I was wandering about that myself as I didn't lock the door before I went to bed," Harry said and did as if he was thinking about it hard. "Couldn't it have anything to do with my majority?"

Remus looked thoughtful himself as he pondered the possibilities of such an occurrence.

"It may be possible," he said at last and after a while of silence he added: "You should be careful with using your magic. You need to get used to your new power levels so that you don't harm someone. If you wish I can help you with that before you return to Hogwarts."

'No way, since when am I offered help!' Harry thought. He was astonished even despite the fact that Lupin didn't volunteer any special training it was nevertheless quite surprising to be able to have that much help. He wasn't sure whether he might need it what with his self-control and occlumency skills he gained over the years but it was nice to have other possibilities than just theoretical knowledge from books. Even though there might be some hidden agenda behind the offer - such as ascertaining his current magical power. However, even he admitted that he might be just a bit paranoid.

"Yeah, that might be good," he said. "Thank you."

"No problem, Harry. It's the least I can do."

Diagon Alley was nearly empty when they entered the Alley from the Leaky Cauldron at nine in the morning, time when the shops where being opened. It was strange that the Alley wasn't as crowded as it used to be. Harry supposed that with the current political climate not many people ventured out in the open or lingered while shopping. Everyone with the exception of the dark side was scared and this fear couldn't be lessened even with the constant presence of the Aurors.

Before they left Grimmauld Place Lupin handed him an envelope with the Hogwart's crest on it with information about the necessary school supplies for his last year. Harry was glad to be able to buy everything himself for once. He was certain that he wouldn't be allowed to visit the busy wizarding market street again. Apparently, being too often in the busy wizarding shopping street was too much danger for someone like him. 'Grrrrr...'

Harry's inner monologue was interrupted by Remus who was asking him where he needed to go first.

Though he had been thinking of how he would get his father's friend to agree, he still wasn't sure if he could manage to persuade his "guard" without the use of magic. Confundus charm might come in handy.

"I need to get some money from my vault." Harry rather thought that bluntness would be best at this point. He hadn't withdrawn his money since the summer before third year as either Mrs. Weasley or Bill had done it for him. But not now. This time he wouldn't give in.

Remus' frown didn't surprise him. It only strengthened his belief that there was something fishy going on. He really didn't like people hiding things from him. Well, things he had every right to know.

"I thought Bill got some money for you," Remus finally answered, though Harry recognized suspicion in the tone. Despite that the young wizard did his best not to appear as if he was up to something. Other reasons for visiting Gringott's aside, he did need more money.

"Yeah, he did. But it won't be enough as I'd like to get some new clothes, shoes, maybe some additional books..." He looked pleadingly at his companion, all the time palming his wand to be ready to send Remus on his way to drink a cup of tea if he had no other choice and also he came to appreciate the motto of Mad-Eye Moody – "Constant vigilance!"

After a few minutes it became clear that Remus couldn't find any viable argument against Harry visiting his own vault. He wasn't aware of the reasons why Dumbledore stressed so much that the Boy Who Lived was not to be allowed near Gringott's but he was certain his old mentor knew best. He always did. Besides he didn't like disappointing the headmaster. After all he was like a father to him.

On the other hand, he really couldn't say anything against the wish of his best friend's son to get some more money. The rags he had been wearing were clearly unbecoming of the young man. He had no other choice than to say: "Ok, we will go there but we will be quick about it."

Harry shot him a grateful smile and started walking down the Alley toward the tall white building of the Gringott's bank.

When they entered the hall of the bank Harry looked around excitedly. It had been four years since he last visited the bank. He missed it. He missed the enormous hall and the small trolleys riding at full speed. He missed the cranky, distrustful beings (there were no other words for them) no one else seemed to like. However he came to respect their skill and proficiency in spite of the lack of his involvement with them. He had been reading on goblins and found out some many interesting things about them and their culture. There was much more to them than dealing with wizarding money and leading wars against humans in the past.

"Hello Griphook," Harry greeted the goblin behind a counter and bowed slightly waiting for acknowledgment.

The goblin looked up, surprised. It was very rare to be spoken to by a human with respect and even more so to be referred to by name.

"Mr. Potter, we haven't seen you in a long time," Griphook said measuring the young man with his gaze. Yes, he could remember the boy well. How could he not. He had been quite unusual even at the tender age of eleven. Besides, there had been much talk among the goblins what with the problems they had to contact the wizard. But finally...

"Yes, unfortunately," Harry answered and shot a quick glance to Lupin who was standing right beside him and then looked in Griphook's eyes. He had the impression the goblin understood what he wanted to say but couldn't with the present audience. "I would like to draw some money from my vault."

The goblin watched the young man and his companion for a moment, coming to a decision asked: "You have your key?"

Harry nodded. He didn't know what the looks where about as he didn't remember being scrutinised so much during his past visits. His intuition told him that he was about to find out not only what the gazes where about but also why the Order or rather Dumbledore wanted to hide from him.

"Follow me," Griphook said and went in the opposite direction from where the vaults were accessed.

They entered a smaller adjoining room on the far end of the hall where there already stood two heavily armed goblins. The room was nearly as exquisite as the main hall. Harry would have liked to look around at the marble walls, the crystal chandelier and the carved table and matching chairs. However, he had more pressing concerns at the moment.

Lupin must have known that they weren't heading directly for the vaults and it was clear that he became more suspicious by the minute. When the door closed behind him he had a frown on his face. Sometimes it was so easy to read him, although Harry would have appreciated more trust towards his person and less of it towards the manipulative headmaster.

"We have wanted to talk to you for a long time, Mr. Potter," Griphook said standing in the middle of the room. He neither continued through another door nor did he take seat at the table in the room.

Harry grew slightly impatient as he _finally_ wanted to come to the crux of the whole secrecy. Alas, Remus seemed he didn't share his wish of finding out as he took hold of his upper arm and tried to steer him away.

"We came only for the money," the werewolf said harshly.

To this all three goblins arched their eyebrows while Harry tried to get Lupin to loosen his grip. He was sure the hold the werewolf had on him would leave a bruise. After a few unsuccessful tries he gave up and with one look at his 'guardian' he came to a decision.

While Remus was engaged in a staring match with the guard in order to let them back into the hall, he slowly took his wand out of his pocket and holding it unthreateningly down he asked Griphook politely: "May I?"

The goblin nodded and so he turned towards his father's friend and concentrated hard keeping in mind his difficulties from the morning.

"_Confundus_!"

Remus' eyes glazed over and he swayed.

'Oops!' Harry thought. 'I guess I didn't concentrate that hard...'

"Let him in this room. Ironthroat and Bigslay will take care of him, Mr. Potter," Griphook said with indifference.

Harry did as he was told, ignoring the pain in his upper arm while trying to stay in the here and now. With the manhandling came bad memories and he had to do his best in order to shove them in the back of his mind. It wouldn't do to lose himself in his nightmares now. Especially now.

He followed Griphook through a second door to a room which looked like a luxurious office. He sat after the goblin indicated him to do so and waited 'til the goblin that showed him to his vault on his first day in the wizarding world began to speak. They sat for several long minutes in silence. Harry felt as if he were being scrutinized heavily with roentgen. It was really strange. Nevertheless, he tried not to fidget.

"We have an hour until the werewolf recovers from his confusion," Griphook said. Not commenting on anything else for which the young wizard was grateful. He was surprised the goblin knew about Lupin's creature status, however, he didn't show it.

"Thank you, Griphook," they both knew what he was thanking him for. It was considered highly disrespectful by the goblins to use a wand when in their presence but especially in their domain without asking for permission. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Tell me, Mr. Potter, did you receive any letters from Gringott's over the years?"

Harry frowned. That wasn't what he expected. But then he didn't really know what to expect from his today's visit to the bank. "No. No, I haven't."

"We have tried to reach you since you were fourteen. We were nearly certain you haven't read any of the letters we sent to you even though our owls returned without the letters."

Dumledore! That was the first thought that came to mind but that was impossible. He needed to know more and thinking about the manipulator wouldn't help. Being angry wasn't very conductive for concentration.

Griphook continued to explain the situation: "There is the matter of your inheritance. Both your parents and later your godfather stated you as their sole heir."

Harry was getting confused. "What are you talking about, Griphook? I already know about my vault from my parents and Sirius left me his house."

"The vault you are speaking of is only your trust fund that is set up for your personal use only. The Potter's have also another four more vaults and as for the Black' inheritance, the Black family was even wealthier. Apart of a small vault for Remus Lupin everything of the Black's was bequeathed to you. Now that you are officially adult you have the right to accept your titles and you may access all of your inheritance."

As the young man continued looking bewildered, the goblin snapped his fingers and scrolls, one thicker than the other, appeared on the desk. "It would be best if you looked through the lists of your possessions. The lists should be complete as some general maintenance of every vault is a standard procedure. However, it would be prudent to have your own manager for your affairs."

Harry was in a state of shock. This certainly wasn't something he had been prepared for. He was numb. As he carefully unrolled the thinner scroll of the Potter' property he nearly fell from the chair as he saw the amount of money that was stored there. He thought that he was rich having only his trust fund!

When he read further he saw that he owned a manor in Wales, a house in England and another one in Scotland and there was a cottage in Ireland according to the scroll. Among the estates the house in Godric's Hollow, where his parents lived and died, was also listed.

It seemed that his vaults contained not only money but prized wizarding artefacts and memorable pieces as well.

He was overwhelmed. He didn't have the time to see through all of it. He only glanced that his predecessors invested in various companies and to his surprise the Gringott's somehow found out about his involvement in the twin's shop, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

He put down the first scroll and reached with shaking hands for the second one. It looked like the Black' family was even wealthier. In every aspect. Beside the money they owned more estates, some of them in France, Germany and Norway.

The list of artefacts was longer too, though Harry was sure they were of the darker variety. The Black family had been after all always considered dark.

Harry put the second scroll down as well and sat for a moment in silence, thinking. It was really no wonder Dumbledore and the Order didn't wish him to discover his inheritance. Their work making him highly pliable and dependent would be undone in a blink of an eye. He thought he had nothing beside his trust fund, for Merlin's balls! He was wealthy and if he heard correctly, Griphook mentioned something about titles. He had read in passing about the pureblood' titles that were passed on to the next heir and the next after that but how could he had known that he also was entitled to one?

He locked any other thought than the possibilities and implications of the revelations in his occluded mind. It wasn't yet time to rant about the headmaster or to think about revenge. No. Now he had to think about what he should do. He could either flaunt with his sudden knowledge in front of the Order and their head or he could pretend he wasn't aware of his wealth and social standing and have thus more room to operate. He was sure the Order would try to control him even more if he knew about his position. They would probably even try to take it away from him.

There really wasn't much to think about. The only viable option was to carry on as he did before without the knowledge of his inheritance. This way he could search for the (hidden) agenda according which the headmaster and his followers acted. It didn't mean he couldn't learn about his heritage and responsibilities in secrecy. He would only continue to play his part as the Boy Who Lived.

For now he would put in order what needed to be and maybe visit one of his Potter vaults with heirlooms.

"Griphook, would you do me the honour of managing my property?" he asked, unsure whether he voiced his request right. As he saw the rare smile on the goblin's face he breathed in relief.

"Lord Potter-Black, the honour would be mine," the goblin answered with a bow of his head.

"Thank you, Griphook," Harry said. Well, that cleared the questions what his titles were. They quickly agreed on the terms of Griphook's new job and continued with the impromptu meeting.

"I have some questions for you if you don't mind." At the nod Harry continued. "First of all I wanted to ask you whether there was a means of communications besides owls or coming here in person. You see I suspect Dumbledore or someone on his orders intercepted the owls you sent and he will definitely do so in the future. I can't come in person very often as you saw – I am always accompanied by people close to the headmaster.

On the one side I would like to know more about my inheritance and my possible duties. On the other hand at the moment it is rather impossible for me to accept my titles publicly."

"There is a special two way bag. It is a special bag only you and your manager can open or handle in any way. You simply put a request in and I send you what you need. There aren't any geographical boundaries for its function," Harry's new manager explained.

"That sounds good. Are there any drawbacks?"

"Good of you to ask. Yes, you must visit Gringott's at least once a year in order to check all of your affairs in person. Furthermore the bag is quite expensive, although I don't think that should be a problem. You can add additional protection. However, the bag is already made resistant to earth elements."

Harry thought about it some more but decided that it was probably the best option there was.

"If you don't mind, I think I'll have one. You can charge the costs to either of my accounts."

After a moment of thought he inquired after the possibilities of having a small vault converted into an account in muggle bank.

He discovered that that wouldn't be a problem and having acquired the two way bag he would have his new muggle account done by the end of the week.

"Is there anything else I should know, Griphook?" He asked before they went down to his Potter vault. The time was running out. He had to be back before Lupin came back from his confused state of mind.

"Lord Potter-Black, you should be probably aware of the illegitimate trials of withdrawal from your vaults," the goblin informed him. At this point Harry was really glad he mastered Occlumency, for had he not he would be seething. He was so angry. The air in the room was thick with magic. It was obviously quite a miracle his wayward magic hadn't blown up the room. His control on his new magic was tenuous at best and with these revelations it didn't get easier.

It wasn't enough for them to hide from him his rightful inheritance. No, they also had to attempt to steal from him. The only good aspect of it was, was that they hadn't been successful thus far.

"What did they attempt to steal? And do you know who?" he asked in a growl.

"Mostly money but several priceless heirlooms from your Potter vaults as well," Griphook said. 'And no, we haven't found the perpetrator. We never allowed the withdrawals as there was something wrong with the magical signature."

"Thank you, Griphook, once more," Harry said. He was grateful for the help.

After that they quickly departed to the trolleys which took them at a high-speed to the lower level vaults. Normally, Harry would have enjoyed the fast ride but with his mind full of new knowledge and questions he couldn't quite manage to concentrate on his surroundings. However he knew he had to keep it together at least for a while. He had to use this chance to buy whatever he needed, although his enthusiasm for being able to obtain a new wardrobe and new books was rather subdued after the meeting with Griphook.

Harry had to slice his hand in order to open the vault. The vaults had been in lock-down state for nearly sixteen years. For today, the last Potter would visit only the main family vault. He wanted to get maybe a book or two, if he found it, about the family history.

When the door to the vault opened with a loud groan, Harry's jaw dropped. He saw the scrolls but he never would have imagined the vault would be either that size or that full. There were wardrobes, closets full of heirlooms, weapons, books, jewellery, pictures, old suits of armour and much more.

When he found the courage to step into the vault that was big as two third of the entrance hall at Hogwarts, which is to say huge, he looked around wide-eyed.

What a bad luck. He so wished to spend the day going through his family possessions. But he promised himself to return one day and search everything he now owned. He may not have a family but he could learn about his ancestors.

He took a few more steps and stopped to investigate a trunk overflowing with books. He was shocked once again when he saw what else was in the trunk.

There on the book lay two letters to be exact. The one laying on top read _Harold James Potter_ in a fine handwriting. He would recognise his father's scrawl as he saw it in Snape's pensieve during fifth year and this wasn't it.

'Mum..." Harry had tears in his eyes when he took the letters from atop of the book. He couldn't read it in here. He did neither have the time nor the peace to learn what she had to say.

He was surprised to see a letter for him in the vault. But he couldn't have been more astonished upon finding out to whom was the second letter addressed. _Severus Tobias Snape_.

Snape! What did he have to do with anything? Didn't he call his mother 'mudblood'? The worst name ever for someone magical?

'What the hell!' Harry thought. 'This day's getting longer and longer.'

He swallowed his questions and his impatience and when he found a bottomless rucksack he put the letters in it in addition to the Code book of the Potter's that also lay in the trunk, the copies of the full lists of items from all of his vaults and the two way bag. Unfortunately, there wasn't time for more. He had to get Lupin and leave. He had already stretched the time at Gringott's to limits.

They came in time into the room adjoining the hall at Gringott's to watch Remus slowly coming to the present. Harry put the bottomless rucksack in his old bag and pretended to have been sitting there chatting with Remus the whole time, having waited for the goblins to fill his money bag.

When Remus started to respond to Harry's monologue about what he wanted to buy in the Alley, Griphook entered and handed Harry the money bag with a bow of his head. The young wizard returned the bow and thanked him for all his efforts. Only the two of them knew the full meaning of the thanks.

Remus would think they came to withdraw some money from Harry's vault and where asked to stay in the room. He wouldn't remember anything suspicious about their visit. Despite the hour long gap between their arrival and departure from the bank, Harry was certain his Confundus charm was so strong that the werewolf wouldn't even question that oddity.

With enough money they made their way back into the Alley and began their shopping spree. They decided to start with the clothes Harry wished to buy and get his school supplies in the end.

Harry got himself casual clothes, few new school robes and a festive robe in forest green. He acquired everything from pants, over shirts to trousers. He even found a nice winter cloak and a very comfortable dragon boots in a leather shop.

He commiserated the fact wizards usually didn't wear sneakers. You couldn't buy them on the wizarding market and Lupin would neither allow him to venture into muggle London nor accompany him.

After a short debate he purchased a dagger with a matching holster as well as a wand holster.

He got the idea some time ago that it wouldn't hurt anything if he were able to fight in hand to hand combat or with other means than magical. From experience he knew that many wizards were incapacitated the moment they lost their wand as they had never learned any other means of self protection. He rather thought most wizards were arrogant like that.

They went to Flourish & Blotts and while Remus got him his school books Harry enjoyed the respite of having Lupin breathing down his neck (he hadn't left him from his sight since they left the bank) and searched for additional books. He got some on advanced potions, advanced defence against the dark arts, animagus transformation (he could use the additional advantage of such a disguise) and healing. He found a book on concealment which he really couldn't do without what with his new appearance and all.

After he paid on the counter for the nearly thirty books, he shrunk them, put a weightless charm on them and added them to his other purchases in his old bag.

The young wizard had to make a stop at the Owl Emporium to get some treats for Hedwig and at the stationery for his school work.

Before they went back to Grimmauld Place Harry refilled his potions supplies at the Apothecary obtaining few new cauldrons of various types and sizes and a full set of potions ingredients for his lab at the London house. Remus looked a bit strangely at him. The amount of potions equipment he bought at once was frankly astounding. More so for someone who was believed to "suck" desperately at potions. Though, the werewolf didn't comment. Maybe he had heard of his success in the potions class during the previous year. No matter what, the young wizard wasn't about to explain.


	5. Chapter 5

**5. Dear Harry...**

When they arrived back at Grimmauld Place, Remus insisted on having a cake. Harry desperately wanted to be alone but he couldn't come up with a believable excuse fast enough (being tired and not hungry wasn't enough) and so he followed Lupin into the kitchen where he was surprised to see Tonks.

"Wotcha, Harry!"

"Hi, Tonks! What are you doing here?"

The metamorphagus made a face. "I'm on duty." From her expression it wasn't something she enjoyed.

He didn't understand why there should be a duty in one of the most secure houses in whole Britain and asked the young Auror. He assumed that Tonks might be more willing to divulge some information about the Order than Remus who was currently preparing tea for all three of them.

"Yeah, we try to never leave the headquarters empty. For emergencies," she explained and waved a hand to dismiss the subject.

"And happy birthday to you!" she exclaimed, stood up overthrowing the chair she had been sitting on in the process and went to hug Harry.

"Thanks," Harry said uncomfortably and looked down. His dislike of physical contact aside, he really was neither in the mood for well-wishers or for Tonks' cheerfulness. Not that he didn't like her, he did. But the only thing he wanted after the day was to close himself in his room, think and read the letter from his mother.

Furthermore, he had to figure out the reason behind his changed appearance and find a way to cover it up. From hiding his scars he already knew that wearing glamours was exhausting. To believably conceal a face would likely be even more challenging. He hoped he would find some answers or pointers in the book on concealment he bought.

Beside that there was the matter of his inheritance. Although he had decided not to acknowledge it publicly, he wished to find the exact cause for it to be hidden from him and then think of some ways to discourage potential plans against him.

With his financial means, political and social standing many new options opened up. With it he could easily exert influence on the events in the wizarding world. An escape into the muggle world or from Britain would be, too, much easier.

"I haven't noticed when you first arrived – you've grown!" Tonks said enthusiastically just when Lupin was turning around to put the tea and cake at the table. He paused in his actions and mustered the young wizard with his amber eyes while Harry felt his face redden. He didn't really appreciate comments on his height even though he (mysteriously) got taller over night and therefore wasn't the smallest person on the whole planet anymore.

"Yes, Dora is right," Lupin agreed.

Harry blushed even further and hastily changed the subject. "Yeah. Thanks for the tea, Remus." He sat down opposite Tonks and Lupin and inquired the former how she had been as they didn't get the chance to speak earlier.

"I'm good, tired though. There's always so much work with the Aurors and then with all the work for the Order..." At Remus' quick glance she stopped speaking and to avoid the awkwardness she started questioning him on how he had enjoyed his shopping trip.

After about half an hour he managed to get away under the pretence of sorting his new things and getting some rest. Obviously Remus wanted to just get some food into his too thin body. He would have rather skipped. After his Majority, the Gringott's visit and his summer at the Dursley's with little to no food he didn't have an appetite.

In his room Harry threw his bag on the bed and while his earlier thoughts and worries resurfaced he cast every ward at the room he knew. He cast a silencing, locking and an impenetrable charm among many others.

It was not full-proof but his reasons for casting weren't only to secure the room however insufficient his wards may be. No, with his new magic swirling in and around, flowing through him, warming him to the core, and his anger, anxiety at their highest performing magic proved itself to be a great stress reliever. He felt most of the tension dissipate. It felt good. It felt wonderful to do magic without restriction. It was great to feel the magic in him and around him as he cast spell after spell.

When he was at the end of his knowledge, he lowered his wand, sat down on the table and breathed deeply in.

A night ago he would have been exhausted, sweating and breathing hard from such magical exertion. Now, now he felt better than before.

He deemed the protection of his room enough for the moment and made a mental note to look through the book on wards he got from Bill as early as possible. With that he turned around and began to unshrink his purchases and putting them in the book regal or respectively in the huge wardrobe in his room.

He threw every cast-off from the Dursley's at a pile and with a satisfied smile incinerated the whole stuff. Afterwards he cast a _Scourgify_ on the floor to clean the soot.

That done he continued in sorting through his new belongings. His school potions supplies went straight into his trunk but those for the potions lab stayed in his old bag which he intended to take to the cellar at night.

After everything was put away the young wizard took out the bottomless bag he had found in the Potter' vault and sat for a moment in silence, playing with the straps on the rucksack. He was nervous about the letter. He was curious what his mom had written to him and wondered why she had left a letter for him in the first place.

He contemplated whether it was a good idea to read it straight away or whether he should wait 'til night fall. It was four in the afternoon and there was the possibility of interruption. At night he would have all the time to read the letter in private. He would figure out what to do with the second letter for his Potions Master at a later time.

At the moment, he wasn't in the mood to deal with his inheritance, so studying the copies of the scrolls of his belongings was out of the question as well. Besides, it wasn't a pressing problem and going through it might also infuriate him. He didn't wish to reverse all his previous efforts to calm down.

He sat the bag aside and opened the book on concealment. Maybe there would be a recipe that would make it easier to cast a glamour on yourself. To take Polyjuice potion would be impossible not only for the fact that he would have to take nearly constantly. Some of the ingredients were rare and he wasn't even sure his hair or any body parts would change his appearance back to the Boy Who Lived everyone knew. You know, short, messy black hair, big green eyes, scar on the forehead, skinny and short.

Around half past eight Harry was made aware by one of his wards that someone was coming up the stairs to the third floor. Therefore he cast a shrinking charm on the bottomless bag and put it quickly in his trunk. He hastily dismantled the locking ward on his door and opened it. Remus came to inform him that dinner was ready.

"You know I could cook sometime," Harry mentioned. Cooking was something he liked doing. Even the years of serving the Dursley's hadn't made him hate this particular 'chore'.

While Lupin ate and Harry picked at his meal, the werewolf started a conversation about the defence against the dark arts to fill the silence in the room. They were alone again. Harry didn't even bother to ask where Tonks was. He was sure he wouldn't get a straight answer.

The least he could do was cleaning up the kitchen as Remus had once again prepared the food. After that there wasn't much for him to do. The werewolf was a little tired because of the coming full moon and they didn't have so much to talk about anymore besides defence. The last remaining Marauder didn't like talking about his dead friends which was something that would Harry be interested in hearing. His family. The young man was, however, aware of the discomfort and didn't want to add to the sorrows of the older man. He had already been cause of too many of them and even though they weren't exactly the best of chums, he didn't want to hurt the man.

Back in his room Harry locked the room with the strongest locking spell he knew and went to dig his mother's letter from the bottomless bag. He sat himself on his bed with his knees drawn tight to his chest and in this position he opened the letter with slightly shaking hands.

_2__nd__ September 1981_

_Dear Harry,_

_I am so sorry, my son, because if you are reading this letter it means that neither James nor Sirius or I are alive anymore. You would have probably already known by now what I'm about to tell you, had one of us survived the wretched war against Voldemort. _

_At this point, Sirius doesn't know what I am talking about but if anything were to happen to James and me, he would have followed our instructions despite his resentment. We left a letter explaining everything in his vault. Please remember that James is aware of the contents of this letter and that he loves you._

_I sincerely hope that the war has ended. Otherwise it might not be safe for you, so please, tread carefully with your knowledge. _

_Even in my time at Hogwarts people rumoured about me and James dating and I suppose you've been hearing similar stories. We were friends but we've never dated. I didn't discourage the rumours as it helped to cover the relationship I was really in since the beginning of my sixth year. Nobody would have supported my partner and me and we would have been at risk of being killed by his family were our relationship to become public. _

_I'm not sure what you know about the war but muggleborns were highly frowned upon in the wizarding society. It wasn't becoming of a pureblood to date a lesser blooded person. _

_Furthermore, the pressure on the purebloods to join Voldemort's little army was increasing with each year. By the time we graduated it was only a matter of time before my lover was marked, despite his own wishes for the contrary. We stayed together and met in secrecy every so often, conscious of the danger to our safety._

_About a year after we finished school I found out I was expecting you. I haven't seen your father for over a month and when we next met I wanted to inform him about my pregnancy and persuade him to go into hiding._

_However, I hadn't counted with the very real possibility that between our meetings, he would be forced to join the Death Eaters. After his initiation he decided it wasn't safe for us to be seeing each other anymore. Before I could change his mind or tell him anything about our baby he turned away and disapparated. _

_Ever since then I've seen him only in passing, pretending to be enemies. I could understand his reasons for ending our relationship and I did respect his reasoning. I didn't want to put either of us in unnecessary danger. It still hurt though, being apart, and I prayed that one day we'd be a proper family. _

_Single mother and a muggleborn to that, I wouldn't have a chance in the wizarding society where I wanted to live and raise you. Therefore, one day I paid a visit to James Potter who was recovering from his recent run in with a group of Death Eaters and begged him for protection. He agreed easily. Apparently his injury robbed him of his potency and so we made an agreement. For our protection you'd become his heir. _

_We staged a marriage shortly afterwards and when you were born I cast a special charm on you to repress your father's genes and replace them with James' so that you'd look like him. The charm is one of my own inventions and you can find my notes on the spell as well as the counter-spell in the main Potter vault in the trunk full of books. However, I'm not certain what will happen when you reach Majority - as it is principally a glamour, it may come of due to the sudden influx of magic._

_I'm sitting at your crib, watching you sleep. Even though you don't look like your father, you remind me so much him. You're both so intelligent, courageous and stubborn. He'd be proud of you. I'm certain you'll become a fine man. _

_I love your father very much. Your father, Severus Snape, is the most intelligent, cunning and the bravest man I've ever met. If you forget about what people may say about him and look behind his mask of indifference and sarcasm, you'll find a very kind and thoughtful man. He may be a dark wizard but dark doesn't always mean evil. _

_Despite our lack of contact in the last nearly two years, I am sure that Sev isn't a true Voldemort's follower. Joining Voldemort equals life servitude but even before he was marked we discussed all the options there were left, turning a spy amongst others. I've always been positive that he decided to spy for the Light. And even more so after our break-up. _

_I know all of this may come as a surprise to you and I am truly sorry for deceiving both you and him. I just had to do the best to protect the two men I love above all else. _

_I'd like you to know who you truly are and if at all possible, I'd love for the both of you to get to know each other as father and son. Please, give him a chance. _

_I enclose a letter addressed to Severus in which I explain everything. When you are ready, please, give it to him. _

_I love you._

_Your mum _

_PS: Harry, don't doubt James' feelings for you because of this revelation. James came to see you as his own son and loves you as a son. Never question that. I haven't seen him happier than when he is with you. _

Harry just sat there on the bed, still in the same position, clutching the letter tightly in his hands, in complete shock.

'How...? Why...? What...?'

He couldn't come up with a coherent sentence even in his mind. He had anticipated the identity of his biological father since the middle of the letter and it seemed that for once his fears had been correct... but no!

He wasn't a Potter! Well, he was but, really, he wasn't! Do you know what I mean?

He grew up thinking of James Potter as his dad. Imagining how great his father would have been, were he alive. Feeling disappointed when he saw the memory in Snape's pensieve but still believing in his idealized father figure. To now, at the age of 17, find out it had all been a lie, to discover his true parentage was disheartening.

This was definitely something he hadn't been expecting in the least when he opened his mother's letter. He had been secure in the knowledge about whom he was and where he came from. In his chaotic and dangerous life he had taken his parentage for certain. A definite fact in the sea of lies. A fact he could always rely on.

But no, even that wasn't true. He felt like he had been suddenly uprooted. 'Of course,' he thought, 'I've been standing on the false roots until this very moment.'

And where were his true roots? Where should he have been standing since his birth?

'Why? Oh, why? WHY?'

Harry felt like screaming. His whole life was a lie. A complete lie! He wasn't the perfect progeny of the perfect couple. No! For Merlin's sake, he was the spawn of a Death-Eater-turned-spy and his secret lover. His mum didn't have a perfect romantic relationship with James Potter, as always believed. No, she was in love with Snape, damn it!

Harry was holding his knees tightly to his chest, shaking all over, when the realisation about what he learned from the letter suddenly struck him as a lightning bolt so hard that for a second he stopped shaking and stared unblinkingly at the opposite wall.

'Oh my God! _Snape_ is my _father_!

No, no, no, no, no, no... NO!'

He started rocking in order to comfort himself. It wasn't bad enough to find that James Potter didn't sire him. No, his father, of all people on the entire planet, had to be a man who hated him like no one else! It didn't matter that he, Harry, respected him.

His mother was right about one thing. Snape was definitely brave and cunning for not many people could have been going into Voldemort's lair working as a spy for over fifteen years and stayed alive. Harry's respect for his ability to walk the very fine line however didn't have any meaning considering the distaste and hate he felt radiating from his potions professor whenever their ways crossed.

It was kind of ironic if you thought about it. Harry had wished for a parent his whole life. Now he discovered he had one only to realise his biological father would never see him as a living being never mind accept him as his own son.

The young wizard felt tears running down his face but he ignored them. It didn't matter. But then, what did in face of this newest realisation? He had been freaking out when he had seen a stranger's face in the mirror that morning. Now he had an explanation for that phenomenon but with it came information he wished with his whole heart he had never received.

Worst of all, for obvious reasons he couldn't share it with anyone (least of all Snape who would kill him the moment he finished reading his own letter or Harry finished explaining), and to his knowledge, it wasn't possible to obliviate oneself. It was to become another burden he would have to shoulder alone. Like the prophecy Dumbledore disclosed to him in the end of his fifth year or the true nature of his life at the Dursley's.

He trusted his friends, Ron and Hermione, to a degree. Ron was, however, prone to overreact and tended to open his mouth before he thought, particularly in rage. In addition his dislike and distrust of the Potions Master didn't know any boundaries. Hermione was more level headed but she believed in Dumbledore and every time there was a problem she looked up to him for assistance. And as Harry didn't trust the headmaster as far as he could throw him, telling Hermione was, too, out of question. Remus was too deep in Dumbledore's pocket and beside the three of them there was no one still alive whom he would consider sufficiently trustworthy to protect his secrets. Even though he liked Bill, he didn't know him well enough to entrust him with the knowledge of his true parentage.

Damn his stubbornness and selflessness! It would be so easy to give up and leave everything behind...

Harry wiped angrily at his tears even as they continued streaming down his face. There was no point in wallowing in self-pity and he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep or rest while feeling so frustrated and downcast. He had to calm down. Therefore he decided to venture into his lab and brew some potions. The required concentration would definitely help to distract him from his current depressive mood.

He stood up and carefully packed away the letter. It would be safest to destroy it but it was the only thing he had from his mother. However much the contents of the letter may hurt, it was written by his mum and as such counted as a priceless treasure.

He took his old school bag full of potions supplies and equipment and put the book on concealment in it. If he was to brew, he might as well do something useful. He covered himself in his invisibility cloak and cast a silencing charm on his feet in order not to make any noise and opened the door into the hall.

There he stopped for a moment. He was surprised to find the stairway dark and the whole house silent. He hadn't noticed how much time went by while he was contemplating the new revelation. It had to be after midnight.

When he was in the basement he made mental note to research wards that would allow access only to certain people. The lab itself was secure enough. It was soundproof and there were even special wards preventing the fumes and odours from the potions to spread throughout the whole house but if the Order knew there was a basement and where the entrance was, everybody could waltz down there and Harry would rather avoid the Order from finding out about the existence of his lab.

Potions laboratory might not seem so important a secret to keep but its discovery would lead to further questions. He had already proven that he was able at potions during his sixth year. He didn't want to let anyone know about his true skills in potions making.

He put away all of the new cauldrons and other equipment – knives, scale, mortar, etc. – and sorted the potions ingredients alphabetically according to their family (plants, mushrooms, insects, animals and poisons). After that he browsed for a moment in the book he brought until he came to the page where a potion was described which would strengthen any cast glamour. He considered it a good idea for the time being. He doubted this would be the perfect way of hiding his true appearance but it would buy him some time to find a long-term solution.

He summoned all of the necessary ingredients and put a heavy pewter cauldron on the working desk.

'I love magic,' Harry thought distractedly and continued cutting salamander spleen. He was so deep in thought that he didn't even notice that he just lightened the fire under the cauldron with the knife he was holding instead of with his wand.

He continued brewing but was too preoccupied to follow the instructions correctly. His hands would shake from time to time and he would have to calm his agitated nerves. He did well enough for the potion to turn out correctly for two hours but then he reached for the next ingredient and added the Armadillo Bile rather than the Horklump Juice and the potion turned muddy brown.

There was nothing he could do to save the concoction. He was so angry! Now he couldn't even brew right!

In frustration he threw the cauldron with the failed attempt across the room and screamed for all he was worth.

This day definitely belonged on the list of his ten worst days. He should have spent the day celebrating his birthday, becoming adult and being finally allowed to use magic out of school. Instead he was dealing with one crisis after another. He was angry, disappointed, disheartened and above all just frustrated with his whole life. He hated lies and now it looked like his whole life had been a lie. The conclusion was obvious.

Harry sat down heavily on an old wooden stool and watched the botched potion trickle down the stone walls. He didn't have any energy to clean up the mess or do anything at all.

He sat, feeling numb and tired of life, for about half an hour after which he summoned all the rest of his strength to start up a new batch of the Glamour Strengthener.

The jungle in his mind was dangerous especially combined with his strong and erratic emotions. His Occlumency walls became thus weaker and the access to his mind was thus easier. Harry knew he couldn't afford letting Voldemort break into his head. The already terrible day would definitely not improve and so he took the fallen cauldron to wash it and set it up. He would let the muddy mess be for the moment. He just couldn't master the effort to clean that. He might ask his enthusiastic elf-friend to do it for him... Hermione wouldn't approve but what she didn't know wouldn't hurt her.

Harry tried to sort his thoughts and strengthening his Occlumency walls as best he could before he began the actual brewing. He could use the success to lighten his miserable mood.

This time his concentration didn't waver much and he finished the potion without a hitch. The brewing process wasn't really that hard. It took only quite a long time and required nearly constant attention.

During the last half an hour when the potion was left to simmer Harry again pondered on his situation. The Order expected him to stay at the headquarters under the supervision of Lupin or another trusted Order member. For him it was principally a much more luxurious prison than he was used to from the Dursley's, but still a prison. He could amuse himself with nearly anything in the house but he wasn't allowed to go outside, visit his friends, train defence against the dark arts or participate in the discussion about the war in general and his life in particular.

However, if he stayed he didn't know how long he could go without blowing someone or something up. It wasn't good to suppress emotions. It was unsafe if you had magic at all and it was especially dangerous if you were as powerful as Harry was. And the young wizard had repressed his emotions since he was little but even more so after the debacle at the Department of Mysteries. With the newest revelations the brim was full and it was only a matter of time 'til it all burst open and that he couldn't afford. He was keeping too many secrets for that.

Therefore, he simply had to leave Grimmaul Place. Even he was entitled to have a holiday once in his lifetime, for Merlin's sake!

'Yes,' he thought, 'this is definitely what I'll do.'

He would ask Lupin as his best friend's son whether he would help him to go to another secure location where he could venture outside and in fact leave the war and everything else behind for the remainder of summer holidays. He had to take a pause from all the madness, death and destruction. He had to collect himself, his new self, and start over. His life couldn't continue the way it did without him losing his sanity.

He would give Remus a chance to support him one last time. He wasn't a kid anymore and even if he was, Remus was supposed to protect the son of his friend and be there for him. Werewolves fight to death to protect their pack members and cubs if necessary. He, being one of them meant he would see his friends and their children as his pack. As there were no indication that would support the theory that Lupin in his human body had adopted some of his animal characteristics aside of the amber eyes, he considered the possibility that Remus didn't recognise him as his cub. But then again, he wasn't really his cub now, was he? The Marauder might have been fighting his inner animal too strongly for it to show itself more.

Notwithstanding the reaction to Harry's question, the young man would leave as soon as possible. He had the means and ability and there was nothing short of death that could stop him. As Dumbledore and his lackeys didn't know about his meeting with Griphook he could easily stay at one of his houses abroad. Griphook already explained to him that the houses could be opened only by the heir as there were blood wards around each property and after he added his own wards he would be safe enough.

Despite his dislike of apparition he was now glad he passed his apparition exam at the end of sixth year and was able to apparate legally. It was by all means the fastest way of transportation. Although, he would have to be careful if he were to travel by apparition as all magical travel left traces and therefore was traceable. If he was to take a plane he would only have to forge some ID and passport which shouldn't be that difficult. With his new face he would be impossible to recognise even in the wizarding world. However...

'The scar!' Harry thought. 'Blasted thing.'

He set the cauldron with the finished pale yellow potion aside to cool down a little before putting it into vials and mulled over the possibilities.

At Hogwarts he had already tried everything he could think of to conceal the mark. 'But then... there may be a way,' he realised. He had only attempted to cover his scar with magical means. What would happen if he covered it with muggle make-up and then secured it with a glamour? He wondered whether it would work and decided it was worth trying. Otherwise, he could always wear a bandana or something.

You might wanna know: Charlie in next chapter!


	6. Chapter 6

6. Unexpected help

When he finally bottled the Glamour Strengthener and cleaned up his work space it was already six o'clock and it was high time he returned to his own room.

He put the vials and the book in his bag, threw the invisibility cloak around himself and cast silencing charm on his feet. He probably wouldn't see his lab for a long time. Just when he finished arranging it, but never mind, he could always set up a provisional lab wherever he went. He crept noiselessly up to the third floor and closed the door to his bedroom carefully.

He removed the invisibility cloak and cancelled both the silencing and the glamour charm. It felt good not to have anything constantly tugging at your powers. Despite his tiredness he decided not to sleep as he wouldn't be able to sleep peacefully anyway. He took his new underwear, casual black trousers and a dark blue long sleeved shirt and went into the adjoining bathroom to take a long shower.

When he was clean of sweat and potion fumes, he added the newly brewed potion safe one vial into a special satchel where he stored all his potions. The vials in that satchel were secure and wouldn't break. It was small (Harry loved magic and expanding charms.) and inconspicuous to the eye. In addition it was password protected so that no busybody could open it.

He went back into the bathroom and swallowed the surprisingly not disgustingly tasting potion and applied a glamour first on his scars and then a second one on his whole body, transforming him into the Boy Who Lived.

After that he started packing the things he would need. He assumed he would return to Grimmauld Place some day in the foreseeable future, so he decided to leave his old school books and old, too short robes in his room and take only what he would need for the coming year. Although, with the amount of books he had bought, he still had to shrink them to fit everything in the magically enlarged space in his trunk.

When the time came, he would shrink the trunk and put it in the bottomless leather rucksack he took out of the Potter vault. It was more practical, looked nice and he liked it.

While packing, he laid eyes on the moleskin pouch he got from the two Aurors and he immediately put his valuables in it. The letters from his mother, as well as letters from his friends and Sirius he had collected over the years, the photo-album he got from Hagrid in the end of first year and his vault keys. When he took the Gringott's two way bag to pack it away he paused.

If he wanted to buy muggle make-up – and when he were at it maybe some sneakers and jeans as well – and decided for safety reasons to travel the muggle way he would need to have pounds. Had he known he would plan an escape the day before, he would have changed his money when he had the chance. However, it was no use to think in what ifs and so he quickly wrote a note to Griphook requesting to change some galleons from his vault into British pounds and to send them back via the two way bag.

He wondered how long it would take for the money to arrive as he didn't get to ask Griphook when they met. He hoped it arrived in the afternoon at the latest. Otherwise he would have to wait a day longer before he could escape.

Harry decided he could make a plan or two about where he went while he was still in safety. Dumbledore would possibly check the Potter properties at least those he was aware of and Harry was certain the headmaster knew most of them as he had heard that Dumbledore and the Potter family used to be close – given this wasn't another myth. Therefore he unrolled the scroll with the list of the Black fortune 'til he found the paragraph with the estates and carefully read through it.

There was supposed to be a cottage in the north of Spain and a summer house in the south of France. He wanted to go abroad where it would be further away from the fighting and safer for him. Also, nobody would expect him to cross the boundaries. Least of all by plane. First he would examine the cottage to see whether it was liveable and if not he would try the second property. There was a high chance he could stay in one of them at least for the time being.

When his destinations were determined he added both the scrolls to the other valuables in the moleskin pouch and put it with his money bag with the remaining galleons into the bottomless bag.

Ok, so he would ask Lupin for assistance and see. If he had to put his own plans into motion, he would wait for Griphook to deal with his request and then he would, quietly, leave the house and take the tube to some shopping centre. He would swallow his dislike of crowds and human contact because it would be easier to vanish if someone were to follow him. After that he would go to the Heathrow airport and with some useful spells he would forge his own fake ID as well as passport. As he didn't have one of those documents at hand, he would have to copy the documents from other travellers at the airport. With the help of his invisibility cloak and magic he should manage just fine.

The only thing he would need to do before he left was transfiguring a bandana for his scar. He really hoped the muggle make-up worked. He already felt that the strain on his magic from the glamour lessened with the combined use of the Glamour Strengthener. Even though he was very powerful he couldn't afford tiring out too much. If it came to an actual duel he would need all energy he possessed.

For another hour he sat on the window sill and tried to clear his mind and strengthen his walls. He had done hastily sorted his thoughts earlier while brewing but his shields weren't strong enough. He was calm at least. Thank God he thought about renovating the potions lab at Grimmauld Place!

It was close to nine in the morning when he deemed his mind and secrets within sufficient. He summoned Dobby and asked him whether he could clean up the mess in the potions lab. The house-elf nodded his head enthusiastically, hugged Harry around his knees and with a crack disappeared.

Harry smiled. He liked the elf even despite his devotion which went sometimes over the top. He would trust him with his secrets, however, not with saving his life. He learned his lesson during his second year at Hogwarts.

In the kitchen he made a pot of strong coffee and toast, wondering where the other occupant of the house was. On the first day he had still been reading his paper when the younger wizard arrived for breakfast around ten o'clock and it wasn't that late yet.

He shrugged and sat down with the life elixir. When there was no Pepper-up potion, coffee served as the next best thing.

While nibbling at his toast he browsed through the Daily Prophet. It was the same nowadays – death, known Death Eater sightings, destruction and Scrimgeour, who replaced Fudge at his post as the minister of magic, trying to control the damage of the continuing failure of the ministry to actually catch some Death Eaters.

He laid the paper back down. He didn't want to read anything anymore. Reading about the victims, he felt guilty for not having helped or already killed the Dark Lord, and seeing the reports on the Death Eater sightings as well as the minister's excuses left him in rage. If Fudge had listened to him after the Triwizard Tournament and done something about it, it might not have been this bad. If... if...

The young wizard finished his third cup of coffee and went to find Remus and talk.

Charlie entered the Order house at Grimmauld Place and without waking Wlaburga Balck's screaming portrait he went into the kitchen to see whether someone was there. He had already reported what he knew to Dumbledore, the leader of the Light however wanted to summon an Order meeting for that evening and asked him to inform Remus about the coming meeting who in turn would take care of letting everyone else know.

The dragon handler wanted to make it quick. For one, he didn't like the house. It felt dark and creepy. For another, when he was already here and had some time to spare he wished to visit his family. They didn't see each other that often.

The kitchen was empty and so he went up the stairs to check the drawing room. With his hand on the handle he was about to open the door when he heard voices coming from the library and turned in the direction of the other room instead. When he was just a few feet from the library door, which was standing slightly ajar, he stopped in his tracks as he recognized Remus' voice. The man was usually so kind and level headed, not angry like he seemed to be now.

What, however, astounded him even more was the fact who Lupin was angry with and how the other person responded.

"... Damn it, Harry! You can't be serious!"

"I'm perfectly serious," said Harry in a tired but determined voice. "I need to get away from here. I need to leave the war behind at least for a short time. I ask you, as a friend of my father and godfather, whether you'll help me to get to a safe location or not..."

'This is strange,' Charlie thought. He didn't want to intrude on the obviously private conversation and so he went back to the kitchen to wait considering what little he heard.

There was definitely something wrong. He was sure of it. He hadn't had that much to do with Harry but what he had seen of the boy at the Quidditch World Cup, his short stay at the Burrow and heard from various family members he knew his youngest brother's best friend never, and I mean never asked for anything. But from his tone of voice it seemed that he was actually demanding to leave.

He didn't fault Harry for wanting to take a break from the war. He was, after all, principally in the midst of it. To carry such responsibility and hope of the entire wizarding and the muggle world on his shoulders could not have been easy. He hoped Remus agreed to help the teen.

He didn't wait even five minutes when he heard someone run up the stairs and a door slam shut.

'This doesn't look good,' the redhead thought. And with a resolution – that kind you usually should take time to think through – he went to notify Lupin about the upcoming Order meeting.

When he was in the library he just asked the still angry werewolf where Harry's room was as he wanted to greet him and left the room. He didn't mind Remus, he just couldn't understand where his anger was coming from.

When he was at the third floor landing, he took a deep breath and knocked.

Harry stopped his pacing and frowned. It couldn't be Lupin because their discussion was over and he didn't think the werewolf would want to talk to him so soon. The only good thing was, the young wizard cleared his mind in the morning and was relatively calm because otherwise his magic would have exploded. It very nearly came to that with all that Lupin let leave his mouth. He was apparently an ungrateful brat.

'Grrrr... Calm down, Harry,' he reprimanded himself and with resolution went to open the door. He would deal with whoever tried to disturb him and then finalise his escape plans.

However, when he finally pulled the door open, he couldn't prevent the shock from showing on his face. Charlie! What the hell was he doing here?

But Harry wasn't the only one surprised by what he saw. The redhead, too, had to stop his jaw from dropping open. He wasn't facing a boy. Not even a teenager. No, Harry could certainly not be called a child anymore. He became a man. A beautiful man, his mind supplied and he told it to shut up. It was neither the time nor the place for such observations.

Harry was the first to regain some of his control and he greeted Charlie still wondering what the man was doing at his door.

"Hi, Harry," Charlie answered and when no response was forthcoming he asked: "May I come in? I want to talk to you."

The black haired man searched his face for some clues for a moment, then let the other one in and motioned the redhead into an armchair by the fireplace he had in his room.

When they were both sitting he asked: "Not that I'm not glad to see you but what did you want to talk about? It's kind of a bad time right now," he explained.

The second eldest Weasley' son nodded and thought about how to word what he had to say.

"I kind of overheard what you talked about with Remus down there when I came to inform him about an Order meeting." He saw Harry stiffen and went on. "I kind of guess that he didn't agree to help you, did he?"

Harry's eyes narrowed as he thought why Charlie of all people would talk to him about that. And why the hell did he ask whether Remus supported his wishes? However, he couldn't find anything suspicious in the redhead's demeanour and so he carefully answered.

"No, he didn't but what is it to you?"

Charlie got the impression that the young man wasn't surprised by Remus' reaction to his request and found a little strange. Also, he didn't remember Harry being so distrustful, though it shouldn't have shocked him that much, considering the position the Boy Who Lived, or rather the Man, was in.

"I understand you'd like to get away from England for the time being. I don't know your exact reasons but if you'd like to you could come and stay at the preserve. Assuming you don't mind dragons, staying in a small, shabby cabin and working hard."

"You what?" Harry exclaimed. He couldn't believe it. Charlie offered him to go with him to Romania and hide there. Why?

The redhead watched the younger wizard's reaction and smiled when the man lost his composure for a moment. His green eyes were so expressive.

"I offer you a place to stay," Charlie repeated and took a guess. "A hideaway if you wish."

To this Harry raised his eyebrows and looked Charlie in the eyes. He couldn't detect any lies but he had to make absolutely sure.

"You'd allow me to stay there and wouldn't tell anyone where I am?"

"No."

"Not even Dumbledore?" He nearly spitted the name out.

Charlie was taken aback at the negative emotion Harry obviously felt towards the headmaster but nevertheless answered truthfully. "No."

"Not even you mother? Your brothers?"

"Not if you'd want me to."

Harry measured him with his emerald eyes for a long time before he said a word. "Why?"

The redhead ran a hand through his short hair. When he decided to offer Harry a place, he didn't think it would be this difficult to make the young wizard agree. He was sure Harry would take another way to escape the confines of Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place, which was a truly horrible place even after the clean up, and he was sure it would be better and safer to help the black haired man than to let him fight for himself entirely on his own.

He didn't attend the Order meetings often but when he did, he often didn't like what he heard. The Order was practically making decisions for the Saviour and planning his whole life without the young wizard's contribution. Another thing he couldn't comprehend was why the hope of the Light wasn't given any kind of training. Giving Harry a place to stay was the least he could do for him. Now, he just had to convince the young man of his honesty.

"Because I want to. Because I can help you and because it's the least I can do for you."

Harry stood up abruptly and started pacing. If Charlie meant his offer seriously he was sincerely tempted to accept. He did know the second eldest of the Weasley' brothers the least but he seemed a nice enough guy. He himself was interested in dragons (well, if he didn't have to fight them, because that sucked) and hard work might do him some good. However, he still didn't understand why the dragon handler would do something like this for him.

"But why? I mean, you're an Order member and if I were to say yes, you'd have to lie to them and to your own family! Why would you even want to help someone like me?"

'Has just Harry implied that he's not good enough for others to help him?' Charlie silently wondered. He feared it was true and didn't like it at all. If the young man stayed with him – and he was determined to make him – then he would have to do something about it.

The redhead stood up and caught one of Harry's thin wrists in one of his big callous hands to make him stop. His fingers overlapped where they met and he added a mental note about the young man's diet.

"Look at me, Harry," he ordered and waited until the green eyes met his. "I think that you wouldn't ask to go away without some serious reason. I also assume you'd come up with ways to escape this place on your own. If you were with me, you'd be safer and you could talk to me about anything you either wished or needed to." He paused for a moment to let his words sink in. "And I won't tell anyone. I wouldn't. I keep my promises. If you need to get away, you get away and the Order and everyone else can go to hell."

Harry studied him for a few minutes before he asked uncertainly: "Promise?"

"Promise. I let you stay at my cabin and I won't tell anyone without your approval," Charlie assured him. He had to keep himself in check. Standing so close to the younger wizard, seeing him so unsecure he only wanted to put his arms around him and hold him there but he feared it wouldn't be welcomed.

The black haired man was also unnerved by the closeness and the contact. His hand tingled there where Charlie grasped it. He couldn't say he felt threatened like he usually did when someone were this close but it was strangely intimate and he wasn't sure he liked it.

"Ok, then," he said, tugged lightly at his hand and stepped a few feet back. "Thank you, Charlie, I really appreciate it."

Charlie smiled at his success and said: "Then we should probably make some plans."

Harry nodded and before he sat down he asked whether the redhead wanted something to drink.

"Tea would be nice but don't bother if you have to go down to the kitchen," Charlie responded, however, the younger wizard didn't leave the room. Instead, he called for his elf-friend and smiled when the redhead's eyes went wide when Dobby in all his attire of mismatched clothing appeared.

"Master Harry Potter, sir, and Master Harry Potter's Wheezy, how may Dobby serve you?" the elf squeaked after he hugged the former around his knees in greeting.

Harry didn't react to how his peculiar little friend referred to Charlie. Sometimes it was better not knowing everything. "Could you please bring us some tea for two? Remus should still be in the library so that you can use the kitchen in the house."

"Dobby will do as Harry Potter asks, sir," Dobby said and disappeared instantly with another loud crack.

"What was that?" Charlie asked when he finally found his voice. In his whole life, he had never seen something this strange and he had lived with his father who was fanatical about all things muggle.

The younger wizard sat down in his armchair again and answered simply: "That was my friend." When he saw Charlie's raised eyebrow he explained. "He is a free house-elf and likes to help me whenever I've the need of him."

At that moment Dobby reappeared with a tray with tea and biscuits which he set on a small table between the two armchairs.

"Thank you, Dobby."

"Dobby is happy to help, Harry Potter, sir!" Dobby answered cheerfully and disappeared.

When they had prepared their tea and leaned back, Charlie asked: "A free elf?"

"Yes. He used to belong to the Malfoy's," Harry informed him.

"And how in the Merlin's name did he get free?"

Well this was something he could tell the redhead without any dilemma. "I freed him in the end of second year." Foreseeing further questions he went on. "I put a greasy, stinky old sock into a book which I then handed to Malfoy. Lucius predictably didn't want either one of them and passed them on to Dobby."

Charlie laughed. This was something the young man certainly would do. "I guess Malfoy senior wasn't happy with you," he commented after he had taken a sip of his tea.

"I can't say we've become the best of chums," Harry replied with a straight face and made the redhead chuckle once again. The older wizard hadn't been there even for an hour and Harry already felt more relaxed than he had felt all summer. It seemed to be so easy to be with the second eldest Weasley. He hoped he made the right decision when he accepted the offer.

"And what about the attire? It didn't look like something a house-elf would wear," Charlie wanted to clear at least some of the mysteries surrounding Dobby. Also, he had the impression that the light banter helped calm the black haired man.

"He loves socks. Mismatched socks," Harry clarified. "And the other things are form Hermione's efforts to free all house-elves at Hogwarts."

"He seems to be wearing everything she ever made," Charlie noted.

"Probably. It's such a shame Hermione hasn't given up her S.P.E.W. quite yet and concentrated on improving the living and working conditions of the elves instead. She may actually have some success."

"That she may," Charlie replied and after a moment of silence changed the subject. "So you really don't mind being around dragons?"

When Harry assured the redhead that, no, he didn't mind dragons at all – under the condition he didn't have to fight against them –, they discussed how they were to smuggle the younger man out of the country without anyone noticing.

In the end they agreed it would be best if Harry left Grimmauld Place shortly before the first Order members arrived for the meeting and met Charlie later at the Leaky Cauldron from where they would portkey to the Dragon preserve. All magical transportation was surveyed but it was only the one who used his magic to apparate or activate a portkey who could be monitored by the ministry control mechanism. Other persons taking a portkey activated by someone else couldn't be detected.

While the redhead was at the meeting, Harry would have time to obtain everything he needed in a muggle shopping centre before he made his way to their meeting point. The black haired wizard would, of course, use his invisibility cloak and cast a disillusionment charm on himself just in case before they met at the wizard pub. They had to make sure Charlie was seen to leave alone.

They also decided how to cover up Harry's presence at the preserve. Charlie was sure no one would suspect anything if his guest posed as his assistant. Apparently, it wasn't unseen of wizards to come on the preserve and help out for a few weeks.

Harry was astonished when the redhead did let him deal with the concealment of his face without asking any questions about how he was so sure he had this aspect covered. It didn't matter that as Harry's appearance drastically changed, his true face was impossible to recognise. No one would have trusted him to manage on his own. No one. And then, Charlie, who didn't know him quite that well, without so much as blinking an eye said okay and went on pointing possible weak points of their plan.

However, that wasn't the only thing the black haired wizard was surprised by. The second eldest of the Weasley' brothers was the first ever person to treat him as an adult. To consider and accept his ideas and arguments. It was refreshing and made Harry feel good. He couldn't help but act more like himself than the public's role model, the Chosen One.

"If I get caught up at headquarters, leave with the last customer and wait for me in front of the pub. Don't leave! I'll definitely come," Charlie stressed, anxious the possible chaos at headquarters would held him up for longer than the usual meeting did. The two young men were in agreement that the Order would probably break in panic upon discovering their Golden Boy missing. They would presumably try to throw together some farfetched plans on how to find or save him (who was to say they wouldn't suspect abduction by the Dark forces?) which would definitely delay Charlie and the pub was open only so long.

The younger wizard had an idea on how to deal with the Light side and prevent any possible overreaction. However, he didn't know his partner in crime well enough to ascertain how good an actor he was. From experience he knew the Weasley's were rather bad at pretending and so he stayed silent.

'Why does he want me to stay in Romania?' Harry wondered and searched the redheads face for a clue about what he was thinking. But there was nothing for him to find except concern in Charlie's eyes. It was impossible for Harry to fathom why the older man did for him what he did. No one else had. No one else would have offered a hideaway. Or cared if he had taken off on his own.

Now it wasn't time to muse about these questions. They had finalised their plans and Charlie probably wished to stop by his family or friends until the Order meeting began. After all he surely hadn't come to England to chat with him.

"I promise, I'll stay there 'til you come," Harry answered after a moment of thought. He became rather uncomfortable as Charlie studied him intently and so he went on: "Now that we've everything planned, I suppose you're heading to the Burrow so don't let me hold you up any longer"

"Yes but I can stay for lunch if you want me to," the redhead offered. He enjoyed the presence of the younger man and their talk. Even if it was about escape plans. He didn't want to go just yet, despite the fact they were going to be around each other for a month. Apart from that, he didn't particularly wish to let Harry alone in a house with an angry werewolf.

"No, that's not necessary. I'll be fine and your family will be delighted to see you," Harry insisted. He, too, didn't want his companion to leave but he admonished himself that he couldn't be this selfish. After all, he had already usurped too much of Charlie's time.

However, Charlie would have none of that. "I really don't mind, so get up and let's go make some sandwiches."

They had just finished preparing their lunch when Lupin entered the kitchen. Charlie nodded in greeting but Harry didn't acknowledge the werewolf's presence in any way. He sat down and carried on their conversation about Quidditch. He didn't particularly want to talk to the man and besides, he had a part to play – the sulking teenager. So when Remus called softly his name – he apparently decided Harry's previous behaviour was some teenage outburst – he just said: "The sandwiches are on the counter." without raising his head from his own plate.

He heard a sigh and a chair being pulled from the table but ignored it. He continued eating and listening to Charlie talking about what was the current stand of the Quidditch World Cup in Brazil.

As soon as they were finished eating, Charlie took his leave and Harry went up to his room to finish preparing everything for his departure.

At quarter past five, three quarters an hour before the start of the Order meeting, Harry cast a disillusionment and a silencing charm on himself, threw his invisibility cloak around himself and closed the door to the house at Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place behind himself.


	7. Chapter 7

7. Surprises

„Let us begin," Dumbledore ordered. As always, he was the last to arrive and the hustle and conversations ceased nearly immediately as soon as he took place at the head of the long table in the kitchen at the Order headquarters and was handed a cup of tea by Mrs. Weasley.

The Order of the Phoenix was established to fight dark forces and so every meeting had a gloomy undertone. Often, they needed to discuss whichever gruesome plans the Dark Lord had just put into action or those that they wished to prevent. The members might be friends and chat about whatever light topic they wanted but as soon as their leader stepped into the meeting room and officially started, everyone shifted their concentration on the serious matters at hand.

This day, only the "inner circle" met – though if anyone dared to refer to the group of most trusted members as such, they would – with a few exceptions (Snape and the two eldest Weasley' brothers) – most definitely be outraged. They weren't some Death Eaters, thank you very much!

In the little group they dealt with more delicate and dangerous matters such as Harry Potter, Snape's reports from Death Eater meetings, the Boy Who Lived, the ministry activities, the Saviour, etc. You get the idea.

Currently, Charlie was telling the others about what he had found out. While fishing for some information for the Order in Romanian pubs, he overheard some wizards talking about weird happenings in the northern part of Turkey. Supposedly many animals and especially the snakes were acting agitated over there and some of them were even fleeing the northern regions. According to rumours, a very dark creature was residing there.

The Order was aware of Voldemort being abroad and so this sudden appearance of a dark creature animals feared (though the snake's behaviour was a little strange for wasn't Voldemort one of the two living Parselmouths?) most probably indicated the location of the Dark Lord. Now they only needed to figure out why he went to Turkey.

Not even five minutes into Charlie's report a frantic knocking on the kitchen door had everyone jumping and turning their heads towards the sound. Dumbledore frowned and with a wave of his wand he dismantled the impenetrable and locking wards on the door.

As soon as the door was unlocked, two teenagers burst into the room. Eyes wide and pale.

"What are you doing here? I clearly told you to go and wait with Harry!" Mrs. Weasley stood up and rounded up on her two youngest children. How dared they disobey her orders? She clearly said they were not to be distracted as there was an Order meeting going on.

She was preparing on telling her children further off but the headmaster interrupted her. By the way the teens behaved, it was clear to him that something was not quite right. The youngest Mr. Weasley was opening and closing his mouth as if summoning the courage to speak and Miss Weasley was just pale and looked frightened.

"What is it, Mr. and Miss Weasley?" Dumbledore asked.

Of course, there was one person in the room who had a very good idea of what this was about. Charlie spent the afternoon since leaving the headquarters and Harry going over their plan to help the younger man escape the clutches of everyone and its most obvious weak points. He feared the Order would panic like his youngest siblings evidently did and their plans would go to naught. Or, and this was what he was the most anxious about, Harry would decide to run away on his own.

Aside of his concerns about their plan, he worried what might happen to the black haired wizard while in muggle London. However, he could do nothing about it. He had to stay here, pretend ignorance and deal with whatever reaction the Order might come up with.

They only had to wait for a few more minutes (Snape glaring at the intruders) before Ron snapped out of his state. "Harry's not here."

Snape sneered in disgust. His student just proved that he really was an imbecile. Fortunately, he didn't take potions anymore.

However the headmaster caught on the meaning and wanted confirmation. If it was as he feared, it would be really bad. "What do you mean, Mr. Weasley?"

Ron stared for a moment and then said: "He's nowhere in the house."

"Have you looked everywhere?" At the nod Dumbledore turned towards Mad-Eye Moody and the Potions Master. "Could you, Alastor, Severus, please make sure?"

They both grunted though the meanings differed. Whereas Moody's grunt was of an acknowledgment, Snape's grunt was of one of intense distaste. However, they both left the now silent room to search the house for the Boy Who Lived.

The occupants of the kitchen had to wait only for ten minutes 'til the two searchers returned, looking grim.

"He isn't here," Moody said in his gruff voice. "Everything but his old books and cloaks 're gone."

At this the room broke into chaos. Whereas the twinkle in Dumbledore's blue eyes disappeared, the other Order members panicked (Charlie acted shocked; Remus went pale) and asked questions after questions.

"Where is he?"

"What happened?"

"Is he alright?"

"Was he kidnapped?"

"This house is supposed to be secure..."

"When did he leave?"

...

Mad-Eye let them for a few minutes but when the group wasn't calming down he barked loudly: "Silence!" and everyone immediately shut his or her mouth.

"The boy left a letter addressed to the Order and the two teens," the former Auror informed them, handing the envelope to Dumbledore.

Charlie glanced in wonder at the letter. He hadn't expected that. Had Harry planned it? What had the young man written?

The others looked hopefully at the piece of paper. This was clearly a mistake and everything was going to be alright. Their Saviour couldn't have left, right?

The headmaster, however, cursed the boy silently. How had he managed to escape? Why? He thought he had the Golden Boy under his thumb. He couldn't have found out about his accounts, could he? Remus clearly stated that though they had gone to Gringott's the day before. They had only waited with some guards until Harry's money had been picked up by one of the goblins from his trust fund vault.

He would much rather read the letter in private and then decide on what to tell the others and what to do about the teen's disappearance but there was nothing to it. He had to read it in front of the small group of most trusted. Therefore he unsealed the envelope, pulled out the letter and began to read aloud.

_Dear Order, Dear Weasley's,_

_If you're reading this letter you've clearly found me missing. I left on my own volition and am perfectly safe, so do not worry! _

_As you might have noticed, I've been out of sorts since Sirius died and even more so since my first ever friend, Hagrid, was killed. I found myself in the precarious situation of not being allowed to leave the sight of anyone somehow connected to either of those man, of being closed in my small room at the Drusley's, at Hogwarts or at Grimmauld Place, the dark place full of reminders of my late godfather, and desperately needing to deal with the losses and my burdens on my own, far away from prying eyes and away from the war. _

_There is only so much a person can deal with until he (or she) breaks down from the weight he (or she) carries. I dare say it's better for everyone if I fight my demons and return in a better state than if I stay and lose my strength to battle in this war. _

_Please, respect my wishes to not disrupt me not only for my sake but also for the sake of the possible war victims. I'm going to be completely safe and trying to track me down would only cost you time and energy to do more productive things. Things I can't (or am not allowed to) help you at the moment._

_I will see you at the first of September._

_Yours,_

_Harry_

When Dumbledore finished reading the letter, the silence continued for several minutes as everyone thought about what they had just heard. Some of them were cursing Harry's selfishness (wasn't Harry Potter an arrogant, attention-seeking brat?). Tonks and the Weasley' parents were recalling how the young man seemed to deal with everything that happened during the past few years and whether they missed the signs showing he was not faring well after all. The Weasley' brothers were silently congratulating Harry for standing up for himself – well, except for Ron who didn't quite know what to think of his best mate's disappearance.

"Remus, did Harry give any indication that he would leave?" The headmaster asked. He couldn't quite believe it. His little weapon had escaped! Or had he? The only thing he said was, he had to deal with some personal matters and would come back to fight in the war. Nonetheless it was disconcerting to find the boy missing when he hadn't seen it coming. Not at all. He praised himself for reading people well and knowing what was happening at all times. The Potter heir getting away from his confines he hadn't expected. Besides, the boy shouldn't have been able to manage it.

Remus looked down. He was feeling slightly guilty for not helping the young man when he asked him that morning. Never mind what personal reasons the teen had, they would have at least known where he went.

"He came to me this morning and asked me whether I could help him to get away from the war for the remainder of the summer," he said. When he saw Dumbledore's frown and piercing gaze, he continued. "I, of course, told him that I couldn't as there is too much going on. He was disappointed but I had no idea he would leave on his own."

"Do you have any idea when he might have left?" Dumbledore asked in an icy tone. He sure wasn't happy with the werewolf at the moment. His most important duty was the one of taking care of the Boy Who Lived, monitoring him and making sure, he didn't overexert himself now that he could use magic without any restrictions. He failed in keeping the brat inside the house and now he was telling him that the boy's escape could have been avoided?

"No, last I have seen him was at lunch," Lupin shook his head. "But Charlie might know more."

All heads turned toward the redhead who didn't look surprised at the turn of the conversation. He was prepared for being questioned as he was the one of only two people in contact with Harry directly before his disappearance.

"I'd like to help but we only talked about some mundane things. My dragons, Quidditch and such," Charlie said as he looked directly at the leader of the Light. "I wanted to cheer him up just a bit ashe seemed a bit tense, when I went to greet him. Though I haven't asked what that was about. I left after lunch."

Dumbledore studied him for a moment, searching for any deception but finding none. But then, why would the brat confide in the second eldest Weasley. From what he knew, they didn't know each other that well. Besides, the Weasley' family was far too loyal to him for them to help the Potter boy behind his back.

"Does anyone know where he could have gone?"

While they were thinking about possible hiding places, Kingsley Shacklebolt reached for the envelope lying in front of the headmaster. There was something strange about it. When he opened it, he found two small notes.

"There are two more notes," he informed the Order in his deep voice.

"Well then, read them," the headmaster ordered. However, the Auror felt the wards on the notes and knew that only the recipients could open them and so he handed the respective notes to Arthur Weasley and Severus Snape.

There was no surprise at seeing the first note but the second one caused shocked faces around the table. It was a well known fact that there was no love lost between the Potions Master and the Boy Who Lived. Why then had the young wizard chosen to write a note to his hated potions professor? That the Weasley got a note of explanation after the young man's disappearance was expected as they were close, but Snape?

Even the Potions Master himself couldn't hide the frown that showed his surprise. He accepted the note and watched it thoughtfully. Why? Why had the brat left a note for him and not for the werewolf or any other Order member who cared for the boy?

His thoughts were interrupted by Dumbledore's impatient request to hear the contents of the notes. However there was nothing important in the first one for the Weasley's. Harry only assured them he was safe and sound and that they shouldn't worry about him.

Snape read his note in silence before telling the others. He found it was always better to be safe than sorry in case the message was for his ears only.

_Dear professor Snape,_

_I'm sorry for causing you any inconvenience with Voldemort due to my past and present actions. You might avoid any undue punishment for my sudden disappearance by informing him in advance of the headmaster moving me to another safe-house – perhaps under the Fidelius Charm with the headmaster himself as the Secret Keeper. _

_It might not go to fault to lull Voldemort into false sense of security and pretend Dumbledore suspects some immediate plan to capture me._

_Enjoy the rest of your summer_

_Harry P._

That was unexpected. Almost intelligent suggestions if he said so himself. Yes, he was outraged at the brat's audacity of telling him what to do. On the other hand, when he considered Potter's advice he couldn't find anything wrong with it. And why did the boy sign the letter just with his given name? Did he think they were friends or what?

There was much to think about. For example how could some dimwit like him think up reasonable solutions to keep the Dark Lord unaware of his greatest foe's sudden disappearance? Granted the boy was better in potions than before but he still suspected some foul play. However, he would have to forestall any further questions as the Order was waiting for him to tell them what stood in his note.

"He gave me some suggestions," the potions professor said at last with a sneer to show what he thought of them. He couldn't give the boy credit in front of so many witnesses, now could he?

"But you're gonna find him, aren't you?" Ginny interrupted the Order in a high-pitched voice. How dare Harry leave without telling her where he was going or taking her with him? When they brought him back the Order would surely tell him off and then he wouldn't leave her behind again.

Dumbledore looked thoughtfully at the teen. He really wanted to haul the brat back from wherever he was but before he could say anything, Severus Snape voiced his opinion.

"I don't think it is a good idea. If the Dark side finds out about Potter missing, he would be in more danger and more people would get killed. If the Light side finds out about it, they would panic and again, more people would get killed."

"So you suggest to leave Harry be and pretend he's still guarded by the Order?" Bill asked. He knew his young friend was capable of keeping himself safe but he still worried. He would have preferred to know where he was or helping him escape to not knowing. Also as far as he knew, Harry didn't have that many friends and he had to have an assistance to disappear. Though, he would not mention this piece of information. The young wizard was obviously desperate to be on his own. He wished he had known the night before.

In addition, he had always been very close to Charlie and there was something strange the way he reacted to the news of Harry's disappearance. In addition he didn't think the dragon handler and the Boy Who Lived knew each other that well to spend time together.

No matter how it hurt him to side with the Potter brat, Snape had to nod. The wretched boy was the only ticket apart from death to get away from under the reign of the Dark Lord. If he was dead, he would not be of any use anymore and his efforts to keep him alive would have been totally wasted.

Charlie felt a thin hand squeeze his left one. This was the signal he was hoping for. This was the signal he feared he would not receive.

He just came into the place between the Leakey Cauldron and the entrance to Diagon Alley from where he and Harry decided to meet and portkey out. He couldn't see Harry as the younger wizard was covered in his invisibility cloak and was under a disillusionment spell. The hand-squeeze, however, told him all he needed to know and so he put their holding hands into his pocket where he kept his portkey. When they both touched the handkerchief, he said the activating word.

He had not only the distinct feeling of something hooking behind his navel and pulling him forwards but the hand he held began to tremble. He tightened his squeeze to reassure his companion that everything was alright but it didn't seem to help much and so he put his right arm around the invisible form next to him.

As soon as they landed he pulled the younger wizard closer towards him. He would have fallen had he not held him from how hard he was shaking. The younger wizard flinched but let Charlie hold him. He didn't react in any way but to stiffen when the redhead cancelled the disillusionment charm on him and pulled the invisibility cloak off of him. He was white as a sheet and shaking.

Harry had assumed it would be alright to take the portkey. He hated the blasted things. More so after his experience from the end of his fourth year. But he had really assumed he would be alright. Obviously not.

As soon as he felt the hook behind his navel, his memories of the tragic end of the Triwizard Tournament came up.

The uncertainty and confusion of not knowing where they were and why they were portkeyed in the first place.

The fear when he saw Wormtail.

The shock when Cedric was killed.

The fear. The rage. The helplessness.

The fear, fear, fear and fear.

While Harry was lost in his memory, Charlie tried his best to call him down. First nothing seemed to be working and the redhead drew a little frustrated. This was hard. Sure he had soothed his younger sibling's nightmares when he lived at the Burrow but this was different. Harry didn't have a nightmare. All Charlie knew was that the portkey triggered this reaction from the younger wizard.

In his helplessness the redhead started to tell the frightened man in a soothing tone about where they were, about the dragon preserve and the different kinds of dragons they kept there. Only this helped Harry to calm down and to bring him to the present.

When the young wizard seemed to be calm enough, Charlie led him to a small couch in the living area where they had landed and sat his companion down. He noticed the changed appearance of the younger wizard. If he hadn't been absolutely sure the young man sitting on his sofa was Harry Potter, he wouldn't have recognized him. Now was, however, not the time to study the changes that made his new assistant even more handsome.

"Are you alright?" He asked in soft voice though he thought: 'Of course he isn't alright, you idiot! He's paler than death.'

Harry thought about what happened. He had portkeyed with Charlie Weasley. He had panicked. He had remembered the night of the Third Task from the Triwizard Tournament. Now, he sat on a sofa in some living room with the redhead kneeing in front of him, looking very worried.

How had he come to be in the room and sit on a sofa? Right. He had portkeyed. Right. He was in Romania. Right.

He was so frustrated. Couldn't anything happen to him without any accompanying dramas? Why had he panicked? Why? Hell, he was causing troubles to Charlie not even a day in his stay. He should have never accepted Charlie's offer. He should have left on his own.

Harry ran a hand through his long silky hair which didn't reassure him in the least due to their strangeness. _His_ hair. Not the Boy Who Lived' hair but _his_ hair. At least this one small thing could have stayed the same, couldn't it?

"I'm sorry," he answered at last in a raspy voice. "I'm fine."

Charlie watched him doubtfully. It was perfectly obvious he wasn't alright and he sounded incredibly unsure and apologetic. That wouldn't do. He would bring Harry to talk about what was troubling him if it was the last thing he did. If he was correct, the young wizard didn't have that many confidants and he needed someone more or less objective he could tell anything. No one could carry so much weight on his shoulder without succumbing to the burden. He had the impression that there was more to the letter Harry left for the Order than the others thought.

"Would you like something to drink?"

At Harry's nod he stood up and went to the kitchenette only to return moments later with a glass of water.

"Thank you," the black haired wizard said after he had taken a few sips and went on to apologize again in his new, deep voice. Apparently not only his true visage but also his voice was changed by the glamour his mother put on him when he was a baby. "I'm so sorry, Charlie. I didn't mean to cause you any trouble. I should go-"

"The only place you should go is bed. You look dead on your feet," the redhead interrupted him mid sentence. He suspected that the young man wouldn't want to cause any inconvenience and thought about his earlier panic attack as such. Leaving was the last thing the young wizard should do.

"And if you're thinking of leaving the preserve before the end of August you can forget it. You're safe here. I already promised not to tell anyone about your presence here. And I think you really shouldn't be alone." 'I'd prefer having you here than worrying how you're faring,' Charlie added in his mind. There was something about Harry that wouldn't let him ignore the need of the younger wizard. And now, he was sure the black haired man needed someone to trust, someone to be there for him no matter what.

"But I'm just trouble-"

Charlie took his cold hands in his own and said resolutely: "No, you're not. If I didn't want you here, I wouldn't have offered you to stay with me. If you really couldn't stand it here, I'll help you find another safe place, ok?"

Harry looked in the sky blue eyes of the redhead for a long time. On the one hand, he wished to stay with Charlie who made him feel safe. Who made him feel like himself and not some two-dimensional hero. On the other hand, he had already caused enough problems to the redhead and didn't want to add to them. However, it didn't seem like his host would let him go without a fight and so he lowered his gaze and nodded.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

"I don't know," Harry said in a small voice. He extracted his thin hands from the big, warm calloused ones and started to play with the sleeves of his new sweatshirt. He really didn't know. The only thing he was sure about was that he was going to have nightmares. He always had them after such an episode. Considering everything else that happened in the last couple of days, he would be lucky if he slept at all.

"What did you remember?" Charlie asked. He agreed with his parents that it was better to discuss possible problems instead of dwelling on them on one's own.

Perhaps it wouldn't be so bad to tell Charlie. Besides it wasn't some secret he couldn't divulge.

"The Third Task... Voldemort's resurrection..."

Oh. Now, that he knew what memory the portkey travel triggered, Harry's reaction made perfect sense. The Order heard from Dumbledore what happened that faithful day. Harry and Cedric were portkeyed from the Maze into the graveyard in Little Hangleton where Cedric was killed and Voldemort resurrected.

Before the redhead had the chance to respond, Harry went on.

"I didn't think that would happen. I portkeyed from the Ministry last year without any problems..."

"You probably didn't pay attention to anything happening around you, considering what happened that night. Your reaction is perfectly understandable. I mean, most people would probably never again use portkeys if they experienced what you did."

"Still, it's just a portkey!" Harry felt bad despite Charlie's attempts to make him feel better. He was a freak.

Usually, he was okay at least during days, only during nights did he have to deal with his nightmares. But then, sometimes something would trigger his worst memories and he would have a sudden flashback and feel out of control. Afterwards, when he came to the present, he felt like a weakling.

Fortunately it only happened when he was either alone or with his friends. This was the first time he had a flashback while with a near stranger. Although considering, Charlie probably was a friend, even though not yet as close as Ron or Hermione.

"You can't control it," the redhead said but he had the impression that his words didn't have much of an effect.

Harry shrugged, took another sip from his glass and changed the subject. He was dead on his feet but there were a few things they needed to discuss, now that he was coherent.

"I take it the meeting went alright?"

Charlie disapproved of the turn of their conversation. It was important the younger wizard opened up a bit but he was aware of the fact that he had first to earn Harry's trust. Pushing at this moment wouldn't help matters. He sat down in the armchair opposite the sofa and answered: "Yes. The Order decided not to search for you as it would cause only panic. But that comes as no surprise to you, does it?"

"I assumed they might see reason if pushed in the right direction."

"When did the idea of writing the letters occur to you?" The redhead asked. After what he had seen of Harry's mind in the morning, he probably should have expected that he would come up with some kind of solution for the situation with the Order and thus save himself some worry.

Harry lowered his head and started to wriggle his hands again. "Pretty early. I'm sorry. I wasn't sure how well you could pretend..."

From the young man's apologies it was clear to Charlie that his worries about this aspect of their escape plans had been unnecessary. He could however also see why he wasn't told about this particular plan. Even though he could act, his house guest didn't know him that well.

"Don't worry about it," he said without a hint of anger. "For future reference it's Ron, Percy and dad who can't lie if their lives depended on it."

He saw Harry's lips curl up slightly and felt himself smile in response. Now that they were both sitting and discussing not so depressing matters, he studied Harry's changed face. He was beautiful before but with his long, not so unruly hair, thinner face and without the round glasses hiding his eyes he looked more than handsome.

'Hell, this is gonna be hard,' Charlie thought. 'I may have to meet with Kyle more often.'

"How did you change your appearance?" The redhead asked because if he concentrated really hard, he could see some features that were definitely Harry and others that were so different it was astounding. On the whole he wouldn't be able to recognize the young man before him as Harry Potter despite the unchanged, deep, emerald green eyes. Ha had never seen such a transformation.

Harry fidgeted a little. That was one secret he wasn't prepared to tell just yet. Because if he told Charlie the truth he would inevitably have to explain more than he was comfortable with.

"It's kind of a glamour charm," he answered evasively. Well, technically he didn't lie. It had a lot to do with a glamour. Never mind it was not cast but cancelled. "Is it okay like this or shall I put on some contact lenses?" He wasn't sure why but his eyes were like his cursed scar. You couldn't change it with magic except for taking Polyjuice potion. Therefore, while he was at a muggle shopping mall, he bought some brown coloured contact lenses just to be sure.

"What are contact lenses?" The redhead asked.

"It's a muggle thing to use instead of glasses or to change eye colour," Harry explained as simply as possible.

"No, I don't think you need to use them," Charlie said after he measured his guest once again. It was really not necessary to change the eye colour. Besides it would be a shame to do so.

To forestall further discussion considering his appearance (for Harry was certain that Charlie was still curious how he managed to transform some but not all of his features) Harry said: "I should probably use a different name and get a new wand."

It didn't take long before Harry decided to call his new persona Janus Damian Kermit*. Even though the redhead liked the new name he started to call the young wizard by a nickname: Ian.

As Charlie didn't have to work the following day, they made plans to visit a Romanian wand-maker, the redhead heard a lot about. He was supposed to live in a cabin in the mountains not very far from the preserve and he was rumoured to be very good.

There were many more matters to contemplate but as they were both very tired, Charlie showed his guest to the second bedroom in the cabin and went to his own room where he fell asleep as soon as his head hit the pillow.

* Janus – beginning

Damian – to kill, subdue, tame

Kermit – free


	8. Chapter 8

8. Magic

Harry, or better to say Janus, was up early even despite the two hour time difference. As he had woken up from many nightmares during the night he didn't have much of a desire to lie in.

When he had showered, he dressed in his new (fitting) faded blue jeans, a black t-shirt and a grey sweatshirt he acquired at the muggle shopping mall the day before. He had had and so he used his chance to get some muggle clothes and shoes. After that he tried to apply the muggle make-up. To his relieve it seemed it worked. He couldn't see his scar anymore. Maybe if he secured the make-up with some helpful spells, he wouldn't have to worry about it coming off during the day.

Ready for the day he went to explore the main living area as he wasn't in much of a state to pay attention to his surroundings when they arrived the night before. The living room consisted of a small sitting area with a fireplace and a kitchenette with a small dining table. The room was simple but with its earth colours looked cosy.

In the bedroom he was sleeping in, was place only for a narrow bed, a dresser and a narrow desk with a wooden chair. Many would have frowned upon the size and simplicity of the room, as well as the cabin but compared to his living conditions at the Dursley's it might as well have been a five star hotel.

Janus made himself a cup of coffee and sat at a window facing a valley, thinking. First when the sun came up, did he move again. He was certain that what he just heard in the distance was a roar. Well, he was at a dragon preserve so he probably should have expected to hear dragons. He shook himself and went outside for a better view.

He stayed in the sight of the wooden cabin and watched the valley and surrounding mountains. It looked beautiful especially with the sun lighting up the opposite side of the valley. He could hear the birds sing, the wind whistle, the stream gurgle in the background and the dragon roars now and then.

There were other cabins on both sides of the cabin though there was plenty of time between each and one of them. Higher up the valley he could recognise a bigger house and wondered what it was for. He didn't know anything about the preserve except that they kept dragons there, that it was situated in the Romanian mountains and Charlie worked there. He would definitely have to ask the redhead more about living and working at the preserve.

Around half past eight Janus went back inside to prepare some breakfast. When he put the toast, eggs and some jam on the table, the door to Charlie's bedroom opened and the sleepy wizard came out still only in his sleeping pants.

"'Morning," he mumbled and made his way into the bathroom.

Janus had to give himself a mental shake for he had been staring. He had a lot on his mind the day before and so he hadn't really looked at Charlie. Seeing the redhead in his nearly naked, dishevelled state made strange things to him.

The older wizard was taller by a few inches than him. He was tanned from working outside all day long and very well-muscled from his work with the dragons. On his back and arms, Janus could see some scars which he possible acquired due to his line of work. Compared to Charlie, he was just a scrawny little boy.

Right, he had to finish breakfast.

Just when he put the cutlery on the table, the redhead came out of the bathroom, dressed in jeans ripped at several places and a t-shirt.

"Do you drink tea or coffee?" Janus asked.

"Tea, please."

Janus quickly prepared tea and they both took place at the table.

"You shouldn't have bothered with preparing breakfast," Charlie said. He saw the dark circles under his guest's eyes and remembering the day before he assumed the younger wizard hadn't slept well. He hadn't heard anything but then again, they were both wizards, weren't they?

"I didn't mind. I was up early anyway."

"Mmm... The eggs are divine!" The redhead exclaimed and Janus blushed.

"It's just eggs," he mumbled. It was really nothing.

"No, they're delicious," Charlie insisted. He was being honest. He had never tasted eggs this good. "They're better than mum's and that's saying something."

Janus looked down, still blushing. He wasn't used to praise and felt awkward. Therefore he decided to change the subject.

"I was outside for a bit and I wanted to ask you how many of you are living and working at the preserve."

If Ian thought he would get of that easily, he was mistaken. Charlie was certain his new assistant would do well at his new job, too, and so he resolved to shower him with praise – of course only if earned. He wouldn't lie to him if he did something wrong. However, success (or good work) needed to be acknowledged.

"There are four teams each with six wizards. In my team there is Paul from the US, Christian from Germany, Andrea from Ireland and Jaqueline and Louis from France," Charlie said. "In addition there is our director of the preserve who takes care of the bureaucratic side of things and politics and last but not least there are two healers, Helga from Germany and Nikolai from Russia."

"So the big building higher up in the valley is for administration?"

"Partly. It's also a meeting place. Often we don't bother cooking on our own but patch up something together. Also it's better to drink with company," the redhead answered and winked at the black haired wizard who just nodded.

It made sense to cook for the whole troupe than alone. It saved some unnecessary work. Also the preserve was likely a very secluded community due to its nature. No muggles could be allowed to set foot on there and most wizards probably steered clear of the dragons on their own volition in case they even came into the Romanian mountains.

"And how many dragons are there?" Janus inquired. Although he was forced to read something about dragons because of the First Task in the Triwizard Tournament, he still didn't know that much about how they lived and what care they required. In his research he rather focused on ways to render dragons harmless.

"At the moment there are 34 dragons in total," the redhead said. "The preserve stretches over four valleys and in each there are around four to five adult dragons but they tend to move around a lot. In our valley we've currently the Hungarian Horntail you went against during the Tournament with her two baby dragons, an Icelandic Bluefire who is sitting on her egg – they're really rare –, male Chinese Fireball, Welsh Green and Norberta."

"The Norwegian Ridgeback?" Janus asked.

"Yes, she grew up quite nicely and is now old enough to have her first babies."

The black haired wizard smiled behind his tea cup. It was clear to him that Charlie loved his job just by the way he talked about hid dragons. Babies, I ask you!

Janus was curious about what it was like to work with the overgrown reptiles. He was a bit uncertain about meeting the Hungarian Horntail because he wasn't sure how good a memory the dragons had. In his fourth year he couldn't avoid to piss the dragon off as he had to complete the Tournament's task. However he was looking forward to seeing Norberta again. Last he had seen her (thinking it was a he) was before Hagrid shut the cardboard box in his hut and the Ridgeback was sent off to Romania. He had been there when the dragon hatched. He had watched her bite and burn the half-giant. Now she was all grown up.

"Let's go to Lacusta and when we return I can show you around and introduce you to the others," the redhead said and began to clean up the table. Together they put the kitchen into order and were soon mounting their brooms. As Janus couldn't apparate in order not to leave magical trace and the valley the wand-maker lived in was close, it was the best way to get there.

"Hello, how can I help ya?" The wand-maker asked in broken English when they knocked at his door. He looked very old and wise.

"Hello, I'd like to ask you if you could make a wand for me," Janus said. On their way to the Lacusta's home Charlie told him not only about the preserve and the daily routine of the dragon handlers but he also explained to him that there were some wand-makers who wouldn't make a wand for everyone like Ollivander did. There were wand-makers who followed old traditions and chose upon whom they would bestow the honour of crafting a wand. From the rumours Charlie had heard, he assumed Mr. Lacusta was one of them.

The wand-maker studied him with his dark brown eyes for a very long moment before he stepped aside and let his visitors come in.

Janus sighed in relief. He had to admit that when he found out Lacusta followed the old traditions he feared he wouldn't be found worthy. He followed the wand-maker in the room that looked like some kind of a workshop. The place didn't remind him of Ollivander's at all. There were carved wooden chests of drawers around the room and a working desk in the middle of it. While Charlie stayed back, standing at the door, the black haired wizard stood forward.

"You're a very powerful wizard, Lord Potter. It is an honour to help you to a wand," Mr. Lacusta said after a long moment of silence.

Janus stiffened. How did the wand-maker now who he was?

"Don't worry, I'll keep your secret," the wand-maker promised.

"But, excuse me asking, how did you recognise me?" Janus asked. He was still bewildered and quite frankly a little scared that some stranger he had never seen before could recognise him this easily.

"My boy, there's only one living person with such strong magic. Besides it was foretold."

Janus wasn't sure about the comment about his magic but if the old man said so. He wished to ask about the second part but something in the way the wand-maker said it make it clear to him that he was not to ask. Therefore he only nodded in acceptance.

Mr. Lacusta motioned him to one side of the room where two large drawers stood next to each other. The wand-maker opened both of them and explained to Janus what he had to do.

"Ya'll now choose a core. Close your eyes, stretch out your wand arm and take out everything that calls for you, alright?"

The young wizard nodded and did as he was told, even though he was unsure how he should recognise what was "calling for him". From what he experienced when he got his first wand there were things you better not questioned. Things that were taken for granted in the wizarding world. Things that would explain themselves - given the time and the chance.

He ran his right hand over the glass jars full of different core materials and concentrated on how each of them felt. After a few minutes he came across something that made his skin tingle. He supposed that this was what the wand-maker called "calling for him", therefore he took the jar out and handed it to the wand-maker who motioned him to keep going.

He was slightly confused at that as he already found a core but he wasn't the expert and so he closed his eyes once again and continued examining the jars. It didn't take long for him to feel the tingle once more and so he handed this second jar to the wand-maker and as before went back to his task. After a while he found a third core material in the second drawer.

When he had run his hand over everything, he opened his eyes and turned to the work table where the three jars stood.

"It's a rather interesting combination. A basilisk tooth, dragon heartstring from Icelandic Bluefire and unicorn tears," Mr. Lacusta said but didn't comment why he thought so. "Now come 'ere to choose the wand-wood." He pointed to the other side of the room where a drawer opened to show pieces of different kinds of wood.

Janus closed his eyes again and ran his hand over them. The rich ebony wood felt the best and he said so.

The old man nodded and took the dark wood from the drawer. He gathered some tools and started to shape the piece of wood into a wand. After that he carved a handle. This whole process took only quarter an hour.

However, he had to fight really hard to work the core materials into the wand. As the cores were so different and opposing it was difficult to keep them in harmony. He had made hundreds of wands during his life but this one was the trickiest to make.

After two hours of hard work and sweating he sat the finished wand in front of its new master. It was a very powerful wand. It was a masterpiece.

Both Janus and Charlie watched the crafting process of the new wand in wonder. It was astounding how much effort the wand-maker had to put into it. And even though Mr. Lacusta was unmistakably exhausted from his work, he looked satisfied.

When the black haired wizard took his new wand he felt warmth coming from it. Also it made his whole body tingle. His magic and wand were in harmony. It was nothing like with his old phoenix feather wand. No, this wand belonged to him, with him. Janus felt a first genuine smile grace his face after a very long time.

"Thank you, Master Lacusta," the young wizard said with a bow in respect. "How may I repay you?"

"Use it well, Lord Potter, and help the wizarding world," the wand-maker responded. He wouldn't take money for his work. For having been given the chance to craft such a masterpiece.

Janus understood that the wand-maker wouldn't take anything from him and so he just thanked him and, bowing, took his leave.

When Harry purchased his wand before his first year, he thought Mr. Ollivander strange. His unblinking eyes creepy and comments disconcerting. As Mr. Lacusta's statements and behaviour, too, was confusing (although in a slightly different manner), Janus guessed that the oddity of the behaviour of the two men came either with the old age or was some kind of side-effect of their occupation.

Nevertheless he was glad to be on his way back to the preserve. However interesting the process of crafting a wand might be, the wand-maker's comments as well as the fact that he recognised him were highly unsettling.

Outside he and Charlie mounted their brooms and headed back to the preserve. When they were high in the air the redhead remarked with a smile: "You don't do normal, do you?"

"I wish."

Charlie looked at him sideways. "You're perfect the way you are."

The black haired wizard glanced at the redhead doubtfully but didn't respond. He had the distinct feeling that he wouldn't win this argument.

They flew back in silence. Both thinking about the encounter with the wand-maker and the situation they found themselves in. It wasn't everyday that you assumed a new identity and found yourself in hiding. The same way as it wasn't that common to offer a refuge to a near stranger and lied about the identity of the person to everyone.

"I'll stay out a little and practice with the wand," Janus announced as soon as they got to the cabin and started to make his way to the back of the building so that he would be hidden from view.

Charlie watched the retreating back and thought quickly. Well, it seemed like his guest wasn't in the mood to talk. He probably should have expected that from what he had seen of the young man so far. He should call himself lucky that Ian stayed and had agreed to come with him in the first place. He would let Ian practice but he would insist that he eat something and so the redhead went into his cabin and prepared some sandwiches for both of them.

With a laden tray he joined the other wizard in the back of his house. He conjured a blanket, put down the tray and sat down leaning against the house. He observed the young man concentrate on his task of levitating some branches for a while before reminding him of lunch.

"Thanks but I'm not hungry," was the response. The posture and voice were very strained and from what he had seen of the effort the wizard had to put in a simple Wingardium Leviosa without destroying the branches or making them shoot in the sky at high speed, he presumed he had an explanation.

"Come here and eat something. You need it," Charlie said ignoring how Ian tensed at the insinuation. "When was your Majority?"

Janus really wished to get on with learning to control his powers. With this new three-core wand it was much more difficult than with his old phoenix wand. He couldn't understand why but this wand channelled his powers even better than the old one. Considering his recent Majority he probably shouldn't have been surprised to struggle at all. Though this knowledge didn't prevent him from being angry and frustrated.

As Charlie looked way too comfortable and set on staying, he sighed and joined the redhead on the blanket. He wasn't hungry and any comments on his posture were never welcome. He knew how he looked, for Merlin's sake! He didn't need any reminders.

"Two days ago," he murmured at last to answer the question and took a cheese sandwich on which he started to nibble.

'I should be happy he didn't throw it at my head,' the redhead thought. He reached for his sandwich and said: "Well, if you want, I can help you with your magic."

The black haired wizard contemplated the proposition. He really might need some assistance. He had no idea how to go about controlling his magic.

"I don't wanna be a bother," Janus said with a lowered head.

"You aren't. Besides, I've time this afternoon and there're a lots of days when we don't need to do much."

"Thank you," the younger wizard said though the redhead thought he was thanking him for more than just this offer. Before he however responded, Janus voiced one of his doubts.

"I don't think it's just my Majority. I mean, sure, with my old wand I blew up a few things, but with this wand I had to concentrate even harder."

Charlie considered the matter for a few minutes. There were only two possible explanations as far as he knew and none was possible, or was it? There just were things concerning the young man sitting next to him that didn't add up.

For example, why did the young wizard even want to leave the safety of headquarter's? Why didn't he go to Dumbledore in the first place? What was between the headmaster and the Boy Who Lived? How come the boy was so thin? He had heard something about his muggle relatives not treating him well from his younger siblings but the way Ian/Harry looked, was like he had been starved. And how did he change his appearance?

However, he felt that now was not the time for those questions. He learned from the dragons that it was usually better to be patient than to push and be shut out for good. And so he asked: "How do your old and your new wand feel when you hold them?"

Janus raised an eyebrow in thought. He didn't know where the question was leading but he took out both wands and held each in turn in his right hand.

"The old one feels... normal, I don't know how to describe it," the black haired wizard said uncertainly. "And when I hold the new one it feels kind of warm and tingly."

The dragon handler contemplated what he just heard. It could point to both explanations but either one of them still didn't make any sense, and he told his guest so.

"There're only two possible reasons for your wands to feel differently. Either your old wand isn't suitable for you or your magic was blocked before your Majority."

Could it have been caused by the charm his mother had put on him? 'No, surely not,' Janus thought. It was only a glamour after all and he didn't believe his mother would go so far as to block his magic. No. That couldn't be it. Who would do something like that? 'But no, even _he_ wouldn't go so far...' He didn't want to believe it and he didn't have any proof. Only suspicion.

And a false wand? Was it Ollivander's fault?

Or his? Was he such a freak that his magic changed or something?

Charlie watched the turmoil on Ian's face as he himself considered what could have happened and why. But for now they didn't have any evidence supporting either one of the explanation and in view of everything, he assumed that they wouldn't find any anytime soon. Besides his companion had obviously a lot on his mind if he had decided to leave England at all costs in order to have some space to think. He didn't need any more problems.

"Ian, let it go for now," Charlie said and waited until the younger man looked him in the eyes. "I know that you didn't leave Grimmauld Place just for fun and I don't expect you to tell me everything. Not right away. _But..._" When Janus made to turn his head away, the redhead reached out one of his hands and with the slightest pressure under the black haired wizard's chin forced him to look at him.

"...I'm here for you, ok?"

How could he trust Charlie when everyone in his life had betrayed him at some point in his life? He hadn't been in the presence of the second eldest Weasley even for 24 hours, so wouldn't it be utterly foolish to trust him completely? Furthermore could he ever share his secrets with someone, anyone?

Janus closed his eyes because he couldn't stand the intensity of Charlie's blue eyes anymore. Because he felt uncomprehendingly safe when he was close to Charlie. Because the redhead's touch calmed him and he feared he would give in and tell him everything.

"Ok," he said at last and this time Charlie let him turn his head.

"What you need to do is basically learn to use only a strand of your magic," Charlie said when they finished eating even though Janus left nearly a half of his sandwich uneaten. The redhead noticed but let it slide. Instead he conjured a pillow and put it on the ground.

"Close your eyes and concentrate on your magic," the dragon handler instructed.

The black haired wizard shook his head, closed his eyes and felt for his magic. It wasn't that hard as he had thought. His magic was practically everywhere. He followed its flow through his arms, legs and into his chest. There the concentration of his magic seemed to be the highest. When he concentrated hard enough on the glowing ball in his chest, he recognised individual strands of magic in bright green, silver, red as well as a few in blue and gold. It was fascinating and beautiful. He wondered if everyone's magic looked the same. If everyone had the same colours in their magical cores.

"Now try to extract a singular strand from your core and push it slowly towards your wand."

Janus did so even though it was a little difficult to pull out just one strand without the rest following. Also as the magic circulated through his whole body it he had to fight very hard to get the single silver strand to his wand.

"Open your eyes and levitate the pillow."

When Janus cast the levitation charm the pillow soared into the air at a rapid speed but compared to his results from before it was way better though not near perfect. He wondered what would happen if he pushed a strand of his magic already in his wand arm. For then he wouldn't need to move a chosen strand through his whole upper body.

He closed his eyes again and concentrated on his right arm and followed his magic to his hand. There he extracted a red strand and without much problems pushed it towards his three-core wand. He opened his eyes and repeated the spell from before. To both his and Charlie's surprise the pillow raised slowly into the air. Perfectly controlled and without danger to any bystanders.

'I guess that answers that question,' Janus thought with satisfaction.

The redhead had to blink a few times to shake his wonder. He had it much easier to control his magic as, even though he was quite powerful, he wasn't quite as powerful as the young man in front of him. But even he had to practice this for days until he got some positive results. The speed at which the dark haired wizard managed to successfully levitate something was truly astonishing.

"Well done, Ian!" He exclaimed. "I haven't seen anyone making such progress so quickly!"

Janus blushed again and lowered his head. He really didn't like it when he found out more things that distinguished him from everyone else.

"It's not that hard," he mumbled. "I just need to concentrate on the magic in my hand. Thanks for the help though."

"The magic in your hand?" Charlie wondered.

The younger wizard frowned. He didn't say anything strange, did he? "Yeah, first I tried to use a strand from my core but it's too difficult to get to my wand without collecting others on the way."

"You have magic not only in your core?"

Janus frown deepened. What was Charlie on about? Hadn't everyone magic in their whole body? Well, he hadn't sensed his magic before his Majority at all, but wasn't it the same for everyone with 'adult magic'?

"My magic is flowing through my whole body. Isn't it the same for everyone?"

Charlie just shook his head. It seemed that Ian, or better to say, Harry Potter, was a bigger mystery by the minute. "Not that I've heard of."

The smaller man just groaned. Couldn't there be at least one aspect of him _normal_? Was it too much to ask?

No, he wouldn't deal with his _freakishness_ at this time. Despite the fact that he managed not to blow up the pillow he still had to concentrate way too hard. He had to practice so that he could cast everything without even thinking about it. Therefore he looked at his host and said: "Could you, please, leave this small detail to yourself? I still need to practice to get it right every time..."

The redhead nodded and sat down on the blanket again to enjoy the sun and watch the progress of the young wizard 'til they had to head to the community house to introduce his new assistant to both his team and the director.

A/N: I had to write the two last chapters as they are/will be quite important for understanding some of the characters. The following chapters should be more interesting.


	9. Chapter 9

9. Chapter – Hideaway

The next two days Janus spent watching his "team", the group of six wizards from various countries, work with the dragons. They were an easy-going group of not merely co-workers but friends. When it came to work they concentrated on the care of their beloved dragons but during the evenings when they assembled in the meeting house they laughed and joked around. To Janus' absolute surprise he felt a smile tugging at his lips more than once while with them.

One of the many reasons for Harry'/Janus' leaving England and the war was that he was just fed up with his constant masks. He was tired of pretending to be who he was _not_. True, being at a dragon preserve under a different name was not very conducive to not wearing masks but, truly, assuming a new name and a new face was his blessing as this way he was seen as just another person and not as a two-dimensional poster-boy.

He still had to keep many secrets but though it sounded strange, he could relax here amongst the dragons and dragon handlers. They didn't expect from him anything. Not really. He wasn't the one with responsibility resting upon his shoulders. He could lean back and help the team from afar for now because he first had to get used to how they worked with the dragons before he could do the actual job himself. Not only so that he wouldn't be fried by the dragons' breath but also so that the dragons wouldn't be harmed.

Apart of the new location and new identity, the international group was like a one big family and Janus really, really enjoyed that. He was a little unsure when Charlie introduced him to his co-workers as to how they would welcome or accept him. But it turned out he had nothing to fear. They included him into all of their conversations and gave explanations when he didn't understand what they were on about. After the first evening he could see why Charlie seemed so happy amongst the little community for it reminded him of the Weasley family very much.

There were the other three teams and even though they socialised in the evenings, they were never as close as one's own team. Every member brought something different to the dynamics of their group so that many would wonder how such a group could coexist but Janus knew that the love of dragons and the shared life-style were way too strong to keep them apart.

They generally got up at sun set when the dragons also woke up. On an ordinary day only four members of each team worked. They rotated so that everyone could get two free days a week. In emergencies, like when a dragon was sick or injured, they needed all the muscle they could get.

Even though the two days were ordinary ones Janus was very much fascinated by the dragons and the work around them. 'Thanks for small mercies,' he thought at the thought of a hurt dragon or a new, frightened addition to the dragon preserve.

He was a little apprehensive around the Hungarian Horntail with the name of Tanit. He couldn't rationally explain it but he had the feeling that the serpent lady, too, was apprehensive when he was around. Considering that he had practically attacked her and her eggs only few years ago he could understand her sentiment. However what bewildered him was the fact that he knew (or thought he knew) what she felt.

He was happy to see Norbert again. He had grown quite well and if you liked such beast as dragons you could clearly recognise the beauty of the Norwegian Ridgeback. He was huge, and exuded power. His back and wings were in many different shades of blue but his belly and the underside of said wings was nearly black. When they got to his cave the first day, the dragon turned his head towards the new assistant and watched him in, in what the black haired assumed was, recognition.

His favourite, however, was Adelinda, the Icelandic Bluefire. She was not quite as large as the other dragons in the valley but she was still magnificent. Though tired from the nesting, she still held her head high. Her scales were in light blue, green and silver, changing with the light. She was, as expected, wary of the humans as every nesting dragoness would be but she only roared and spat fire when Paul, the American dragon handler, came too close to her nest. The fire was blue and in contrast to the fire of others it was freezing everything in its wake instead of scorching it.

Despite the fact that he had to wait only one night until he was allowed to get closer to the dragons, Janus just wished it was already tomorrow. During days he could concentrate on the dragons but as soon as they were back in Charlie's cabin, all the thoughts he managed to repress while working would come back. All the worries, all the pain and anger.

He didn't want to bother his host who already did so much for him – giving him a place to stay and work. The redhead was tired after the day's work and surely wanted only to launch or chat with his "adopted family". Apart from that, the young wizard had the impression that Charlie watched him. He didn't particularly mind as the stare wasn't the one that followed your every move and tried to control you. No, the gaze was rather of the kind: How does this puzzle fit together?

Janus was neither ready to answer Charlie's unasked questions nor could he lose himself in his thoughts. Brooding over his parentage, his inheritance, Dumbledore and the war merely amplified his anguish and deepened his depression and he just wanted to relax for once in his life. Therefore he studied the books he bought – first and foremost the book on wards and concealment. He hoped to solve at least a few matters. It was easy at the moment as he had only to continue holding up his glamour on the scars (and the ever darkening circles under his eyes) with the help of the Glamour Strengthener. When he returned to the UK he would have to become the Boy Who Lived once again.

So now, on the third evening of his stay at the dragon preserve, the black haired wizard sat on the doorsteps with a disguised book in his hands, enjoying the evening sunrays. While he read about the different potions and charms used to change the appearance, he kept an ear open for possible visitors. For one, he didn't like to be caught unaware, for another Charlie had asked him the day before whether he would mind if the redhead's boyfriend stopped by.

Harry/Janus had grown up listening to his aunt and uncle badmouthing homosexuals and any other "abnormalities" as they called them. Even in his young age he didn't put much value behind their opinions. Then when he entered the wizarding society he didn't get to find out what the public's standpoint on same sex relationships were and he didn't particularly care either way. Growing up at the Dursley's without love at all and then getting to know the Weasley' family taught him certainly one thing – love was a precious little thing and you should cherish it while it lasted. It didn't matter in which shape and sizes it came.

He could admit to be slightly surprised that the second eldest Weasley brother was gay or at the very least bisexual but due to his rather neutral opinion of the concept he could agree very easily to the visit of the significant other of his host. He only asked that his identity not be revealed.

When he heard the footsteps coming up the road, he didn't lift his head from his book but glanced from behind the curtain of his pitch black hair at the newcomer. He was sure it was Charlie's boyfriend as he hadn't seen the person anywhere at the preserve before. He was medium built, dressed in fancy clothes, had short brown hair and held his head high. Everything about his posture screamed confidence.

"Get up, I need to get through!" the visitor ordered when he was close to the doorsteps upon which Janus was sitting.

The black haired wizard didn't like the tone of the voice but he stood up nevertheless and ignored the lack of greeting. Instead he looked the brunette in the face and said: "Hi, you must be Kyle!" He didn't offer his hand as he didn't think it would be shaken and neither did he want to touch the visitor. Something about him made his skin crawl. He would prefer not to be in the vicinity of Kyle but it was not his place to say so. If Charlie liked him who was he to tell him to finish the relationship?

Janus didn't step aside but took the few steps up to the door and with a quick glance over his shoulder informed the brunette: "By the way, I'm Janus." and went inside the cabin.

Charlie raised his head when he heard the door open. He had been passing up the time before his lover came, by going through the Daily Prophet and thinking about his new assistant. Ian had been with him for three days now and he was nowhere closer to figuring him out. He seemed at ease with his team as well as around dragons. However, as soon as they got home, Janus either hid behind one book or another or went into the back of his cabin to practice the control of his magic.

"Ian! Kyle!" The redhead exclaimed in greeting when he saw the two men stepping into his cabin. He stood up and before he was able to take even two steps from the couch he was swept into a possessive embrace and given a hard kiss. When Kyle finally let go of him, he was confused and breathless. They had been seeing each other for three months now but he had never been kissed like this. He probably wouldn't have minded in other instances but with Ian present...

Charlie turned around, searching for the young man. He could see only his back as Janus moved quickly in the kitchen, preparing tea.

Ian picked up his freshly made cup of tea, glanced at him and his lover and with an expressionless face informed them that he would be spending the evening in his room. "... Don't mind me and enjoy the evening!" were his last words before the door to his bedroom closed shut behind him.

Charlie's attention was brought back to his lover as Kyle tugged him down on the sofa. "So how have you been?" Kyle asked him while massaging his thigh.

The redhead answered and continued to talk to his lover, kiss him, touch him and make sex to him until Kyle fell asleep in his bed. However he couldn't find sleep that easily. The expressionless face Ian had been wearing before he closed his door behind him was haunting him all night long. Also, when he kissed Kyle he wondered what it would feel like to kiss Ian. What it would feel like if it was Ian calling his name in the throes of passion?

He had to stop his thoughts. It was so very wrong to want Ian desire him. It was so wrong to fantasize about the younger man for so many reasons. For one, as far as he knew Ian was straight as a ruler. He was also nearly eight years his junior. His brothers always talked about their sister's crush on Harry Potter and last but not least, why would someone beautiful, powerful and intelligent as Harry/Ian even want him?

No, he definitely had to stop his mind from coming up with unrealistic scenarios. Besides, he already had a lover, so...

Janus was so shocked when Kyle all but shouted "Charlie is MINE!" when he kissed the redhead that he couldn't move for a moment. He had never ever seen someone so possessive and straightforward in their hostility.

He had to shake himself to turn his back on the couple for two reasons. First, he really didn't like people like Kyle: arrogant and commanding. Second, – and he really couldn't explain this reaction of his – when he saw the brunette close his arms around the redhead's waist he only wanted to chop those arms off. It was as if a snake was coiling in his belly, preparing to lash out.

Therefore he decided it would be best to retreat into the safety of his bedroom. He didn't know what possessed him as he didn't have urges to hurt someone even when provoked by Malfoy and if Kyle continued to be hostile he was sure Charlie would notice and he didn't want to cause any more problems to his host.

He woke up after two hours of fitful sleep and didn't have the strength to face his nightmares again. He was seriously considering brewing some Dreamless Sleep potion for if he were to continue he would probably get eaten or burned at work. He couldn't afford any inattention while around dragons. Some of them might tolerate him but it didn't mean that they would be any forgiving of his mistakes.

Janus lay in bed for a whole hour considering his idea from the night before. He came to the conclusion that neither a potion nor a spell alone could change his appearance to his old one as the Boy Who Lived as the public knew him didn't have a specific DNA. His DNA was the one of Harold James Potter aka Janus Damian Kermit, the son of Lily Evans and Severus Snape. If he was not much mistaken his mother had to use the blood from James Potter to make him look (at least temporary) like his biological son. As James Potter's blood was inaccessible he had to come up with another method to change his appearance.

He doubted that Polyjuice Potion would work even with using his old hair and as he decided before, it wouldn't be very practical. He was strictly against wasting his magic on glamours 24/7. In addition both of these solutions were highly unreliable. You had only to wait for a specific amount of time for the potion to wear of and you only needed to cast one single spell to cancel a concealment charm. So there had to another answer.

When he showered and dressed, the black haired wizard put his hair into a lose ponytail and went out into the darkness to practice using his magic again. He was improving rather quickly and was most of the time confident enough not to blow things up. He didn't avoid casting spells anymore for fear of harming any bystanders. He just wished his thoughts and life itself could be sorted as easily...

As usually Janus went back inside before Charlie had to get up to prepare a quick breakfast. He was surprised when he could hear water already running in the bathroom but he paid it no mind and went about making tea and coffee.

The door clicked open and he turned around to bid the redhead good morning, however the greeting got stuck in his throat. It wasn't Charlie who exited the bathroom but Kyle. Janus muttered "'morning" and turned back to cutting a bread for toast.

He listened to footsteps, doors opening and closing and then he heard water running again. 'Charlie must have gotten up,' he thought to himself and poured the hot water into two pots. He would have jumped from the close proximity of someone if he didn't feel something cold and very sharp push between his ribs. Instead he hissed in pain as he missed the second pot and burned his left hand with the boiling water and stiffened. He really didn't like people sneaking up on him and even less putting knives to his skin (as he recognised the feel of the cold sharpness hold to his back – he would have been mad not to from how often uncle Vernon had threatened him with knives and cut him).

Janus repeated his mantra in his mind to calm his nerves: 'I'm not at the Dursley's. It's not Vernon.' He wasn't prepared to be threatened at the dragon preserve and so this treatment came absolutely unexpected. He had to keep himself in the present at all costs. A flashback wouldn't be the best thing in this kind of a situation.

He felt hot breath at his right year and the force of the knife increased.

"You listen to me, boy," Kyle whispered. "If you so much as look at Charlie, you're dead. Are we clear?"

When he didn't answer right away, Charlie's lover pushed the blade even further so that it pierced skin. Janus shook himself mentally, took a deep breath and said in as strong a voice as he could muster: "Crystal clear."

They stayed in the same position until they heard the shower in the bathroom being turned off. The knife disappeared and Kyle sat himself nonchalantly on a chair at the dining table. Harry ignored the slight pain in his back and pretended as if nothing happened. He put everything on the table but instead of taking his own place, he took a dry toast a cup of coffee and on his way out said to a still sleepy Charlie: "I'm going to see Adelinda. See you later!"

The redhead shook his head to clear his mind and looked at the retreating form. Adelinda? If he were more aware of his surroundings and not still halfway in bed, he would have definitely insisted on Ian waiting for him. Adelinda was a nesting dragon after all and his assistant might be powerful and intelligent but he hadn't been around dragons that long to know his way around.

In his befuddled state, however, he couldn't process the information and so he poured himself a cup of coffee, put some jam on his toast and began to eat. He woke up fully halfway through his second cup and wondered where his guest was. First, when he finished his second cup did he remember Ian's leaving words.

'Oh, shit!' he swore. He stood up abruptly and called over his shoulder to Kyle who watched him bemusedly: "I have to leave!"

He jumped on his broom and flew at a head speed towards the cave where the Icelandic Bluefire was nesting. If he was late he would never forgive himself. He berated himself the whole way for his lack of awareness that morning. He hadn't slept as much as he was used to due to his lover's visit and his trouble getting to sleep afterwards and look what it caused.

Remembering the morning he couldn't help but notice that there was something wrong going on with Janus. He normally ate breakfast with him so why not today? If he could just put his finger on it!

When he neared Adelinda's nest he slowed down a little so as not to startle her. As soon as he saw the lithe form of his assistant a weight fell from his heart. He was so relieved to see the young wizard alive. Not because he was the hope of the wizarding world as many claimed but because he came to care for the man full of mysteries.

But wait...

'What the hell! What is he doing?'

He had to get away, was the first thought when he was standing in the kitchen without the threat of being stabbed and Adelinda was the first he thought about.

Janus was aware of how foolish such idea could be. I mean going to a nesting dragoness unprotected and without back-up was really foolish but something told him that it would be alright.

Besides, his only concern at the moment was to get as far away from Kyle as possible. No, he really didn't like that guy. He had to reassemble his composure so that he would be able to function during the day. He came really close to losing his control over his actions. He was okay if he expected being assaulted, threatened, beaten or the like. He was only thrown off balance when a physical attack came as a surprise and he really came to see Charlie's cabin as a kind of safe haven. Guess he was wrong.

He sat down near the entrance to the cave with his back leaning on a stone and his legs drawn to his chest. He didn't have to wait long 'til the Icelandic Bluefire came to check who invaded her nesting place.

He looked into her piercing dark blue eyes fighting not to blink. °Hello, Adelinda, I didn't come to hurt you or your egg,° he said sincerely.

The dragoness continued to watch him for signs of lies and sniffed the air but when she couldn't find any, she hissed back: °You are hurt, young one.°

Janus was taken aback. He had felt her suspiciousness before but now there was concern and wonder. As he had thought he recognised the feelings of the dragons before, it wasn't such a shock compared to hearing the dragon _talk_ and actually _understanding_ what she said.

He stood up slowly, holding his arms beside his body in an unthreatening way.

°How can I understand what you say?°

She puffed out a cold air from her nostrils in what the black haired man was sure was laughter. This made him even more confused. As far as he was concerned, humans normally didn't converse with dragons.

°You are a speaker, little one.°

A speaker... Of course, he never noticed when he switched language but how could he forget! He was a parselmouth so did it mean that all dragons understood and spoke parseltongue? Why didn't then Voldemort recruit dragons in his little dark army?

°You speak parseltongue?° He asked after he processed the fact that he really could talk to the dragoness.

°Yes, but only the smaller kinds of dragons can speak the serpent language. The big ones use the language of dragons but we all understand the serpents. You are the first human I ever talked to.°

°There aren't many humans to speak the serpent language,° Janus commented. He wondered what Charlie would say if he knew.

°So who did hurt you?° The dragoness repeated her previous question. °I smell blood.°

The young wizard lowered his head. He didn't want to say. °It's nothing. It was an accident.°

Adelinda growled angrily. °Don't you dare lie to me, young one!°

The black haired wizard found the stones under his feet suddenly very interesting. Others would be scared having an angry dragon growl at them but he was just embarrassed.

°It's really not so bad,° he insisted but as he heard another growl he acquiesced. °Charlie's lover came and he doesn't like me much. He threatened me.°

The dragoness growled once again and this time Janus knew that her anger was not directed at him but at his attacker.

°Come here, young one,° the dragoness ordered softly.

Janus raised his head and slowly went towards the dragoness. He was unaware of Charlie who landed some 50 feet away from them and watched in horror as each step took his assistant closer to the dragoness. He couldn't move nor shout because he didn't want to scare either of them and thus write Ian's death sentence. Even though he was pretty sure his guest's death sentence was already written.

What was he doing? The redhead wondered. The relief from before at seeing the young man standing and very much unharmed was forgotten.

Three steps away...

Two steps...

One...

'WHAT?' Charlie had to catch his mouth from dropping. Instead of opening her mouth and swallowing or breathing freezing fire at Ian, Adelinda lowered her head and nudged said ('insane' Charlie added in his mind) young man in the chest. Ian raised his right hand and started to scratch her at her nuzzle and between her eyes. To this, the dragoness closed her eyes and made a purring like noise.

The dragon handler was so shocked it took him several minutes until he felt his limbs again and could actually put them to use. With his eyes wide open he went towards the two. He tried to make some small noises to alert them to his presence so that they wouldn't be scared by his sudden appearance.

When he was some 20 feet away the dragoness opened her eyes and measured him. Ian turned around to face him while still continuing to stroke Adelinda's head. For Charlie it sure looked surreal.

He was about 10 feet away when the dragoness growled and made to push the black haired wizard gently behind her. If he didn't know better, he would say, she was protecting her hatchling against him.

°Adelinda, don't! It's Charlie and he won't hurt you!° Janus hissed. He didn't want anything to happen to the redhead. Least of all because of him.

°But he hurt you, young one,° interjected the dragoness.

°No, he didn't. His lover did but Charlie doesn't know. He's helped me a lot. If it wasn't for him I wouldn't be here. Please, don't hurt him,° the black haired wizard pleaded with her.

Charlie watched in fascination as the dragoness talked with Ian. Of course, he had known that Harry was a parselmouth, how could he not but between knowing and actually hearing parseltongue was a huge difference. He found the hissing noises strangely arousing. Add to that the fact that his assistant was talking to a bloody dragon, he was lucky to be still conscious.

°Ok, but if I see this lover of his I will bite him,° she rambled to which Janus couldn't help but smile. She was like a mother protecting her child.

"It's okay now," he informed the dragon handler who was still not moving from his place.

"You can talk to her," the redhead said in awe after he had gotten his wits back.

The younger wizard nodded and said: "Yes, but I would rather nobody was aware of it." His ability to speak parseltongue would surely freak out the other dragon handlers and uncover his true identity. After all, there were only two parselmouths alive and so it wouldn't be much difficult to draw the correct conclusion. Apart from that, if Voldemort were to find out about the possibility to communicate with the dragons, he certainly would want to either win them on his side or enslave them.

Charlie nodded and took three more careful steps towards the dragoness and the wizard. There he stopped and narrowed his eyes at his assistant as he remembered why he had been scared and worried to death when he hurried over here.

"Janus,..."

'Oh, oh,' the black haired wizard thought. He was never called by his real assumed name by Charlie.

"... I nearly had a heart attack when I found out you went here, alone, without a back-up or anything! Then I come here and see you walking up to a nesting dragon and stroking said dragon!" The redhead was now so angry and relieved he didn't care he was standing not even eight feet from a very protecting mother dragon. "You never ever do something so foolish!"

On the one hand, Janus couldn't help but feel bad for making Charlie worry so much. Nothing bad had happened to him but he was aware of the fact that it could have. At the same time, he was really surprised at seeing the redhead scared so much for him. It seemed like the second eldest Weasley sincerely cared for him and it couldn't be true, could it? Who was he but trouble?

°Go to your mate, young one,° the dragoness hissed. She could smell the worry, fear and love the redhead felt for the black haired one, now that he was closer. Also from this close proximity she could feel something else. The redhead was the young one's mate and he wouldn't hurt him. Not intentionally. And so she pushed the speaker away from her and watched as he uncertainly crossed the distance between her and the dragon handler.

"I'm sorry," Janus said in a small voice when he stood in front of the redhead.

Seeing Ian's insecurity was too much and Charlie drew him into a tight embrace. He cursed whoever was responsible when the young man in his arms stiffened and stayed like a board for a long moment. He hold Ian tight to his chest with one arm and with the other hand he stroked through the smaller man's silky hair while assuring him that no, he wasn't really angry with him. He had just been so scared he would lose him before getting to know him.

Janus wasn't prepared to be drawn into an embrace. He generally avoided physical contact but with Charlie his only reaction was to stiffen and let it happen. There weren't that many people who could put their arms around him without him bolting straight away. He had to admit that it felt nice to be held to Charlie's firm broad chest after he had convinced his body to relax a little.

"I really am sorry," the black haired wizard said when he withdrew from the embrace. "I didn't mean to worry you."

"I know," the dragon handler responded and put a lose strand of hair behind Ian's ear. "Now, would you like to explain?" He asked to break the silence between them.

The younger man understood what the redhead really was asking but he neither wanted to lie to him nor could he tell him the truth about why he came to be here. So he decided to rather explain the current situation.

"Adelinda says that every dragon understands parseltongue but only the smaller ones speak it. I was just about to ask her if she wished anything when you came."

Charlie sighed inwardly at the response. He had already suspected that his guest would evade the question once again but he would find out later. They didn't have much time 'til the others came looking for them. He looked the dragoness in her dark eyes and said: "Thank you, for not hurting him."

By her nod he knew that she understood.

°Tell your mate that he shall not worry.°

Janus repeated the message to Charlie who nodded in acknowledgment and wondered at the "mate" part. He hadn't noticed before as the dragon handler's ire was directed at him.

°Why do you call him my mate? He's just a friend,° the young wizard wondered.

Adelinda nudged him so that he would stroke her again and answered. °Because he is your mate but you haven't mated yet.°

The black haired wizard couldn't help but blush at her matter of fact words and resolved not to broach this subject in the future. Charlie couldn't be his mate. He had a lover for a start. Was older, more beautiful and skilful and besides, he didn't even like Charlie this way. He wasn't gay, or was he?

°So would you like anything special today?° He asked to change the subject.

They said goodbye to the dragoness soon afterwards and hurried to the meeting point with the team. Both were still a little dazed from what they have experienced in the morning but they played their part well and didn't give anything away.

He scared Charlie half to death a second time that day when they came to see after the Hungarian Horntail, Tanit. His fears that she remembered him from three years ago and was none too happy about him being around her and her growing babies were confirmed as soon as he came in her fire range and she spit fire at him. If it weren't for his quick reflexes acquired by Quidditch and dodging punches, he would have been burnt to death.

As it were he didn't come unscathed but with some second grade burns on his left side. Principally nothing that couldn't be healed with some healing spells and ointments. However the whole incident proved that Janus shouldn't be anywhere near the dragoness and her two nearly grown babies.

The black haired wizard felt bad for making Tanit feel so apprehensive and protective just because of a stupid Tournament he was forced to take part in. The worst was that he could have simply explained to her that he had never wished her or her hatchlings any harm but as the others were not supposed to know his ability to speak parseltongue he had to keep his mouth shut.

Later, when they were back in their cabin, he suggested that they, just Charlie and he, go to Tanit so that he could clear the situation with the Hungarian Horntail but the redhead went nearly ballistic. He didn't think the heart attack would elude him for long if his assistant kept putting himself in dangerous situations.

Sure he had known that his job of taming and being around dragons was very dangerous but there was a significant difference when it was just you facing the huge reptiles and not someone who you promised to keep safe ('And obviously cared more about than you'd previously thought,' Charlie added silently.).

The redhead was also astonished at how well Ian managed despite the pain he must have been suffering. They might have carried some first aid potions with them but they still didn't take care of all the pain. Not when the scorched area was so large as in the young wizard's case. As Tanit's cave was one of the farthest from the community house it took nearly an hour until they could get the black haired wizard to the capable hands of their healers. However Ian didn't so much as hiss when they moved him. Apart from looking paler than normal you wouldn't have said there was something wrong with him.

And then after his injuries were healed, Ian proclaimed that he was fine and would join them on their way to the next cave. Charlie tried to disagree but in the end recognised the pointlessness of his efforts and just insisted on getting some food into his house guest.

The rest of the team watched as the redhead argued with the younger wizard and just shook their heads in amusement. True they were also scared at seeing their newest addition burned but when it became apparent that the injury wasn't serious they stood back and speculated about the possible reasons to make the dragoness react in the way she did.

Over the next few days Janus learned the new routine of taking care of the dragons, making sure they had enough to eat, their caves and surrounding compounds were clean, they themselves were healthy as well as preparing the rare ingredients like shed dragon scales or dragon dung for sale. Though he stayed in the background when it came to Tanit. Neither of the team wanted a repeat of the first time he was close to her.

He learned some minor healing spells for when the dragons got into fights between each other or when they tried to leave the warded area of the dragon preserve and even got into discussion with the two healers, Helga and Niko, about how to improve some of the potions they were brewing for the community. He really enjoyed their talks as he had never been able to have a proper conversation about potions before. As the Boy Who Lived he pretended not to be the best brewer there was and so exchanging some knowledge about advanced potions came as a nice respite. They even made plans to meet up on his days off to try out their improvements.

With Kyle coming nearly every day, Janus tried to spend as much of a time as possible away from the cabin. When he wasn't working or chatting with the two healers, Janus buried himself in his books in an attempt to come up with a solution to make him appear as the Saviour once again. After hours and hours of search for something, he was nearly at his wits' ends. He felt the time slowly running out and was getting desperate to get some positive results.

He knew that he couldn't hide forever from Charlie but he tried to avoid the impending conversation. The redhead was wondering why he saw Ian only on his job but otherwise not even though they lived in the same cabin. Janus was also certain that he didn't do a really good job at hiding his sleeplessness and depression. When he fell asleep from exhaustion he had nightmares about Voldemort's resurrection, Cedric's death, Sirirus' death and more often than not he had nightmares about his life at the Dursley's, none of which helped to raise his spirits.

Often when he felt particularly down, he went to visit Adelinda who always made him tell her what was wrong. It felt good to unburden himself. He was quite certain that the dragoness would keep his secrets and so he didn't worry when he one night after an extra bad nightmare told her his whole life story with tears running down his face. He couldn't remember how long it had been since he had cried.

The dragoness just nuzzled him and listened to his story. Sometimes she growled in anger at what the humans in the little one's life had done to him. She wanted to rip the humans' hearts out but all she could do at the moment was to keep the wizard close to her. She worried about him because she could feel his exhaustion but as she had no way of letting the redhead know, she could only hope that the dragon handler would help her little one sooner rather than later.

Unbeknownst to her Charlie did see that Ian was plagued by more than just grief after his late godfather's death. He had thought long and hard about the letter Harry/Ian had left for the Order and then about the way the young wizard acted since he met him at Grimmauld place. The redhead was sure that something specific must have happened to force Harry/Ian to take such a drastic step as to leave everything behind and hide for a month. Whatever it was it was serious.

He couldn't detect any dark circles under the young wizard's eyes but he was nevertheless certain that he didn't sleep well. Ian didn't go to bed before him and he was usually out of the house by the time he got up. He kept in mind that his guest was an adult wizard and his ability to cover something up by magic stared him in the face every waking moment.

Also he couldn't explain why the young wizard avoided him. When they arrived at the preserve they spent some time together even though it wasn't much they still were at least in the same room while reading or relaxing. In the last few days he had only seen the back of his guest and was getting increasingly worried.

Why was Ian distracting himself to the point of total exhaustion?

Why was he avoiding him?

And why, oh why had he been so desperate to leave the Order headquarters?

A/N: Heya, how would you feel about Bill knowing about Harry being with Charlie or at the very least suspecting it?

If you have any suggestions for my story, please, don't hesitate to share them.


	10. Chapter 10

10. Chapter – Meetings

Severus Snape treasured the solitude of the Hogwarts' dungeons during the summer holidays when the students left for their respective homes to forget everything the teachers managed to force into their heads. Due to the current war and his role in it, he couldn't enjoy the peace and quiet of his chambers and his personal lab nearly often enough and so he was not really pleased when Albus Dumbledore stopped by to inform him of yet another Order meeting.

There were only three weeks left until the corridors filled again with hormonal teenagers and he could use all the time there was to relax but no, between the Dark Lord and Dumbledore he hadn't a spare minute to concentrate on his experiments or to just sit in front of his fire in his peaceful dungeons and read. Damn them both to hell and Potter with them!

He suspected that he was one of only few people to see through the headmaster's machinations. How could he not? He who had attended school with the famous Marauder' quartet who despite their rule and law braking were never truly punished because how could Dumbledore wrong the young Potter heir? He needed the political, social as well as financial support of the powerful family after all and therefore he chose to turn a blind eye to the wrongdoings of James Potter's clique.

What did it matter that their little gang beat up their peers as well as younger, weaker students? What did it matter that one of their own nearly committed murder at the age of 16?

The Potions Master didn't want to ask Dumbledore for help when it became clear that he wouldn't be able to worm his way out of being branded by the Dark Lord. He wouldn't go so far as to say that he despised the headmaster but he certainly didn't trust him. If there had been another way... but there wasn't. He had to choose between going down the dark path, death and begging for protection from the side of Light.

He had always known his decision but it didn't mean that it had to be easy. Not after losing... No, he couldn't think about it. About her.

From the moment he asked the leader of the Light for protection, the headmaster slipped into his mask of a forgiving grandfather (never mind that he, Severus, had never had a choice in the matter of joining the Dark Lord but who cared about that?). However, the new potions professor hadn't been fooled. He had known Dumbledore at least that well to recognise his insincerity but he needed someone to vouch for him when the time came and besides, if he wanted the Dark Lord gone, he had to work with the Light side.

Many bought the concern of the grandfather-Dumbledore but Severus knew better. It was but a mask. For all intents and purposes, the headmaster was just as forbidding master as the Dark Lord. The only difference was that he was a better manipulator and used dark magic only when it suited him.

Still, when confronted with the decision between the Light and the Dark Lord, he would choose the former once more. If not for any other reason than to avenge those he had lost to the Dark.

The Dark Lord suspected a traitor among his circle and so he was even more secretive about his plans than usual and as the dark side lay low for the moment the Potions Master was quite certain why there was another Order meeting. The Wonder Boy. How he hated him. His arrogance, his father and all that he represented. He was so like his father.

But to be entirely honest with himself he had to admit that the latest stunt the Potter spawn pulled caused him some confusion and concern. He wanted to believe that the brat was so arrogant as to ignore all their efforts at keeping him safe and now lay somewhere on a beach in the Caribbean laughing at them. He wanted to believe that it was only one of the brat's teenage bouts of protest at being ignored. He wanted to believe that the boy had done it only to spite them without any thought about the consequences. He wanted but for some reason he couldn't.

There was something about the sudden, unexpected disappearance of the boy and the fact that nobody from the Order or Potter's friends knew where he went. True, he had left a letter of explanation but if he had still mourned for his mutt of a dogfather and Hagrid, wouldn't someone have noticed? And why had he left a note for him?

It simply didn't make any sense for Potter to help him. For if he had to be truthful, after he gave it some thought Potter's suggestion actually held some merit. He had already visited the Dark Lord and informed him about Potter's whereabouts and about the "fact" that the Order feared he would try and capture the Saviour. Voldemort hadn't been exactly pleased that the boy was under Fidelius but he outright laughed at the Order's "paranoia". Severus hadn't been punished that night.

The logical suggestion about how to deal with the Dark Lord instead of alleviating the confusion surrounding the Boy Wonder only made it worse. How had he known how to appease Voldemort? Was he still experiencing the Dark Lord's dreams?

He hated the brat. He truly did. But his mysterious disappearance put a seed of doubt in the Potions Master's mind. Had he misjudged the boy?

Surely not. Potter was still an arrogant self-important brat.

Charlie had been looking forward to his day off for several reasons. For one he had been working hard and free time without the work around his beloved dragons or without trying to gather some information about the war from the Romanian pubs was scarce. For another he had resolved to find out what was bothering his new assistant.

He had known that there were things Ian wished to deal with but he had the impression that there was something more acute troubling the young man since they had been spending at least some of their free time together before Ian started to work directly with the dragons. Since then he practically saw the black haired wizard only at work and that wasn't quite normal. Also he was quite worried as he couldn't in good conscience say that Ian slept at all. If the young wizard went to bed it was only much later than Charlie himself did and got up much earlier.

Their day off presented a good opportunity to talk and get to know each other better. The redhead hadn't known Harry Potter much beyond what was written in the papers and what he found out from his family and various Order members. However having spent a week in the presence of the Boy Who Lived, having watched him for a week he was sure that even his family who acknowledged Harry Potter as an honorary Weasley didn't know the young man that well.

There were hidden depths to the wizard. Deep sadness and understanding of the darkness but also vulnerability and insecurity. It pained him to see him suffer and he could do little as he watched Ian put distance between them. However, Charlie was nothing but determined to be there for the troubled young man.

Therefore he was quite angry when he received a message informing him about an upcoming meeting. As he was free from work he had no choice but to attend. He didn't want to but he knew Dumbledore wouldn't be very happy with him if he didn't come. And so he decided to postpone his and Ian's conversation until the following day.

He saw his assistant only in the morning at breakfast but then Ian disappeared somewhere and Charlie hadn't seen him at all until he had to leave. He scribbled a short note to tell his guest where he was and took his portkey all the while trying to shake a feeling of unease.

He tried to convince himself that the feeling was simply because he didn't wish to attend the meeting and possibly lie to his family (which he wasn't particularly fond of doing) but there was something more to it. A fear that something bad might happen if he left the dragon preserve which was simply ridiculous. There were enough powerful wizards to take care of things never mind the dragons who were quite capable of defending themselves and their own.

Charlie shook his head as if to shove the apprehension from his body and opened the door to the house at Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place.

The meeting was quite pointless, Charlie thought. They apparently assembled to think about places where Harry might have hidden. Never mind the fact that they decided not to look for him or announce to the world that their Saviour had disappeared. Dumbledore obviously didn't buy it when several of the most trusted members argued it was best to let the Boy Who Lived deal with his grief on his own and come back when he was ready and so now they were sitting in the kitchen of the Order headquarters and discussed possible hiding places. The most logical places were then to be searched for Harry, clearly so as not to give away they were searching for someone.

Severus Snape wasn't the only who doubted the ability of the Order members to conceal what they were truly after but he saw no point on saying anything. Apart from stirring up an argument he wouldn't achieve anything. He wasn't very well liked or trusted on the side of Light but usually he didn't mind.

Charlie pretended he didn't know where Harry might be and as he – to the knowledge of the Order – didn't know the Boy Who Lived that well he only observed as the others threw in suggestion after suggestion, one more unlikely than the other.

The redhead had to stifle a groan when Bill approached him on his way out of the house. He had been aware of Bill watching him carefully throughout the meeting and was certain that his older brother suspected something. He wasn't surprised. Not very much, for he and Bill had always been very close. Perhaps not as close as Fred and George but close enough. Even now despite them living on different continents they met up regularly. They had always confided in each other their most inner secrets and this was the very first time that Charlie didn't and wouldn't tell his brother everything. He wouldn't break the promise he had given to Harry.

The curse-breaker could suspect all he wanted but he didn't need to have his speculation neither confirmed nor denied. Even if it would be hard not to tell his brother everything, Charlie was prepared to lie even to Bill for Harry's trust was for some unexplainable reason important to him.

"Hey Charlie, we haven't spoken in quite some time," Bill said and Charlie understood the unasked question behind the statement – _What are you not telling me? –_, though he wasn't fully concentrating on his older brother. He hadn't been able to shake off the apprehension he had felt since leaving Romania. Instead the unease steadily increased during the meeting. Now that it was over he just wanted to return to his cabin at the preserve as soon as possible and make sure that everything was alright and that he was just being overly anxious

"No, no we haven't," Charlie murmured and then continued in a hurry: "I'm sorry, brother, but I really need to go back to Romania. Talk to you per Floo, ok?" He didn't even wait for Bill's nod before he exited the door.

He didn't go around the block as usual for the disquiet he was feeling was quite alarming. He simply had to get back to his cabin. He took out the portkey from his pocket not ten feet from the entrance door into the house he just left and with a quick glance around to see whether there were any muggles he activated the portkey.

The dragon handler appeared in his living room to the sound of choking. He turned around in alarm and what he saw made his blood boil.

Normal people would rejoice at having two days off. Normal people would sleep eight hours a night. Normal people would lean back and relax. Normal people would talk with their friends.

Not Janus. He slept two to three hours a night. He feared his two long free days. He couldn't allow himself to relax lest his worries come to the forefront of his mind and he went out of his way not to see the one person he felt (at least a little) close to.

Janus didn't particularly wish to be around the redhead because then his host wouldn't have the chance to ask questions. Another reason was that he would rather not end up on the wrong end of Kyle's very sharp knife. Once had already been one too many times and he didn't want to cause Charlie any more unnecessary trouble. Apart from that Janus was confused because of how he felt when he was around the redhead. He felt safe and that was just plain... strange.

Therefore the young wizard went to practice his magic and research for ways to conceal his appearance without the constant use of his magic straight after a quite breakfast with Charlie and without his host's lover. Once again he forgot about the time and when he looked up from his books, it was past lunch time and he was already nearly too late for his meeting with Helga and Niko.

There were no patients in the medical wing and so they could concentrate on improving the formula for the burn salve they were using at the preserve for burns from the dragons. After four hours of brewing they had an even more potent ointment which would not only heal the burn more quickly but also prevent the injured tissue from scarring. The two healers were very happy with the improvement and Janus silently wished for his "concealment project", as he called it, to go as smoothly.

"Have you thought about Potions Mastery?" Helga asked him when they were cleaning up the lab.

"No," Janus shook his head. "I haven't given it much thought."

Niko mustered him with his dark eyes and said: "Well, from what we have seen you would make a fine Potions Master. We could always use someone like you around here."

The black haired wizard was surprised at the sudden proposition and wasn't sure how to respond. He wouldn't mind working with the two as they complemented each other in their knowledge and ideas quite well but he just wasn't able to give the time after Voldemort's demise any thought. Personally he didn't think he would survive the war. He knew the odds and they didn't speak for him. Besides, the end of the war seemed currently so far away... So he just shrugged, mumbled a thank you and went back to washing the used cauldrons.

It was close to eight o'clock when he finally returned to the cabin. First he shed his clothes and took a long shower. Brewing potions always left you sweating, smelly from all the fumes and with greasy hair. He had understood in the beginning of his sixth year when he began to brew his own potions in his spare time that it was possible that Snape actually took care of his appearance but that his greasy hair was simply inevitable in his line of work what with a day full of potions classes, preparing antidotes for them and stocking up the infirmary. The Potions Master would have to wash his hair several times a day for it not to be greasy. But no, he wouldn't think of his... potions professor.

After his shower he went to the kitchen corner to prepare a quick chicken soup. He didn't wonder long about Charlie's whereabouts as he saw a short note on the dining table. It said:

_Ian,_

_I've to go to a meeting and will be back around ten._

_I haven't seen you all day and hope you're ok._

_See you later,_

_Charlie_

'Well at least Kyle won't be here today,' Janus thought as he burned the note.

When he was full and had the kitchen cleaned up he thought about what he should do. He was rather exhausted from lack of sleep and a day full of work. However he feared to go to bed just yet. Sleep never did him any good. Nightmares. Always nightmares.

After a quick glance around his room and the living room he decided that he might as well use the time productively and clean up. Of course, he could have waved his new wand a few times and every dust particle would be gone but where was the fun in that? He needed to clean up the muggle way.

And so he did. He didn't venture into Charlie's room for he didn't wish to intrude upon his privacy but he cleaned up the remaining three rooms. To his disappointment the rooms weren't nearly big or messy enough to need more than an hour to be finished.

Just when he was putting the broom and bucket away, contemplating possible activities for the evening he heard the front door open.

'That's strange. I thought we arrived in the living area,' Janus thought and went to investigate who just paid him – or rather Charlie – a visit.

Kyle.

'What is he doing here?'

"Hi, Charlie is away and won't come back until much later. Shall I tell him you were here?" He asked in a would-be polite voice.

Kyle wasn't smiling. In fact when he watched his face longer, Janus recognised the anger and contempt in the older man's face. 'Well, this doesn't look good.'

The brown haired wizard didn't say anything until he was only few feet from the younger wizard. "I know he isn't here. I came to see you."

Janus felt the first signs of fear but he wouldn't show it. All his instincts screamed at him to run that the other man's presence didn't bode well but he couldn't leave. His only escape route was blocked by the older, much bigger and stronger man. It reminded him of his time at the Dursley's. Again. There was something about Kyle that made him remember all of the horrors he had to endure at his "relative's" house.

"Me?" The black haired wizard ignorance was best for the moment. He did neither know what Kyle's problem was nor what he wanted from him.

Charlie's lover took a further step towards him so that there was now only about a foot between them. Kyle reached out his hand as if to caress his face and Janus from many experiences of being struck stepped back instinctively. However, there wasn't enough room for him to back away as he was already touching a wall with his back. He was trapped.

The hand came faster this time but instead of hitting him, Kyle gripped Janus' chin tightly and forced him to look him in the cold eyes.

"You," he said raising his left hand to stroke him from temple to chin. "I don't like your pretty face around here. So," he continued touching Janus' face with one hand while using the other to hold him firmly in place. "You see, we have a problem."

The black haired wizard couldn't do anything but let it happen because he was much weaker than his attacker. He was so tired that even if he was physically up to par with Kyle, he doubted he would have been able to do anything about the situation. Besides he had to fight not only against the other man but also against his memories which threatened to overwhelm him.

Suddenly Janus felt a blow hit him on his left cheek. He hadn't duck in time. Kyle was strong so it hurt and stung but Janus was used to being beaten by Vernon and his blows were in an entirely different league.

"You will leave this cabin." Another blow to the other side of his face. "This preserve." A punch to his stomach. "And never return." This blow to the stomach was too much for Janus and though he stayed silent, he collapsed to the floor in pain.

He was in his bedroom at the Dursley's and uncle Vernon was beating him up.

No. He was at Charlie's and Kyle was the one doing the beating.

Another kick to his stomach. And another one.

The punches, blows and kicks rained on him and all he could do was hold out his arms in protection of his most vulnerable parts.

He wasn't sure anymore where he was or who he was.

Who was beating and kicking him?

There was only pain. Fear and pain. Pain. Fear. Pain. Pain. Pain and Pain.

No place for another thought. Only the wish for it to end. He was so tired. So, so tired. Let it end. Let him kill me, whoever he is. Let it be over.

Suddenly the beating stopped and Janus hoped that it was over. But no, he was lifted from the floor and then his air supply was cut off by very strong hands. He lost the control of his mind and slipped into his memories. But they were no better. They might have even been worse.

_... No, uncle Vernon! I didn't do it! Dudley pushed me and the picture fell. ..._

_... Please, stop... It hurts..._

_... I won't do it again... I promise..._

_... Please, stop... I will be a good boy... Please..._

_... Please..._

_... Please..._

_... I promise..._

_... Please..._

A/N: First of all, thank you for your reviews. It is nice to see that there are people who actually like the story (at least so far).

I had some serious problems when writing this chapter and hope that it turned out ok.

Hopefully, the next chapter will be easier to finish so that you don't have to wait so long again.


	11. Chapter 11

**11. Chapter – Trust **

"Ian!" Charlie exclaimed as he took in the scene in front of him.

Before his lover had the chance to fully turn around to face him, he hit him with a powerful stunner that knocked him out instantly.

The redhead rushed towards the dark haired wizard who fell in a heap to the ground when Kyle let go of him and was gasping for breath. It was apparent that he was badly beaten. From what he could see, there were bruises forming on his face and arms. His eyebrow and lip were bleeding.

When he was close enough he kicked the unconscious wizard out of the way and leaned down to help his house guest. As he reached out his hand to touch him, Ian flinched away violently and rasped something which sounded suspiciously like: "Please..., don't..., uncle Vernon..."

Charlie cursed Kyle for what he had done. Not only had he hurt him badly physically but it also strongly reminded him of the time when they had arrived by portkey the previous week. Ian didn't know who he, Charlie, was and where he was.

The redhead considered what he should do. He should probably call Helga or Niko to heal him but he didn't think it would be such a good idea to leave Ian alone in such a vulnerable state. Besides, Ian wouldn't probably take kindly to the healers examining him in his current state when Charlie couldn't touch him without causing the young man even more distress.

The dragon handler recalled how he had brought Ian back the last time and so he kneeled down a few feet from the black haired wizard who was unsuccessfully trying to curl himself into an invisible ball, aggravating thus his injuries.

"Ian, it's Charlie," the redhead said in a soothing voice. "You're safe. No one will hurt you anymore. You are at my cabin in the dragon preserve. Remember the morning when you went to talk to Adelinda? Remember Adelinda? The..."

Charlie continued talking about the dragons and the preserve all the while watching Ian's reactions. When he was sure the young wizard was listening to his words he outstretched his arms in an inviting gesture and told him what he was about to do.

"I will help you up and to your bedroom and then I will look at your injuries, ok? I promise I won't hurt you." He got no visible response from the injured wizard but he was certain Ian heard him when he slowly covered the distance between them and Ian did flinch only slightly upon the physical contact. He decided it would be best if he carried the younger man to his bed for he didn't know how seriously he was injured. When he hoisted Ian up into his arms he noticed two things: the younger man stiffened and he was entirely too light. However there were much more pressing matters to deal with at the moment.

He didn't immediately lower his cargo on the bed but sat down with Ian in his lap. The younger man wasn't complaining about the arrangement and Charlie had to reassure himself that his new friend was indeed still alive. For it had been a close thing. He couldn't comprehend what his lover had thought and done. At the moment he wanted to kill Kyle but first came Ian.

While he thought about what could have happened in his cabin during his absence and trying to slow his heartbeat because, frankly, the sight of Ian being nearly choked to death gave him nearly a heart attack, he carded his fingers through the wizard's silky hair absentmindedly. This action like his speaking about the dragons earlier apparently calmed the young wizard for it didn't take long before he said "I'm sorry." in a raspy voice and tried with a hiss to get off of Charlie's lap. However the redhead held him in place and summoned a glass of water from the other room.

"Don't you apologise or move. You will hurt yourself," the dragon handler said still in his soothing but firm voice and held out the glass of water to help his guest drink some.

Janus was ashamed of himself, being such a weakling. He had lost the fight with his mind and lost himself once more in his memories. What was worse, it was the second time during his stay at the dragon preserve and he was again "brought back" by his host. He was such a burden and Charlie was still being so kind and helpful. He just couldn't understand why.

And now, now he was sitting like a baby in the older man's lap, for Merlin's sake! He had never sat in another's lap, well not that he remembered as he supposed he had been hugged and hold by plenty people before his parents' deaths but not since so why would he need it now, after all those years? But if he was honest with himself, it was kind of nice to be hold by someone who didn't mean him any harm. Who soothed him with his voice and touch.

Although there was a part of him that urged him to get his act together immediately and deal with everything on his own, Janus was so tired and comfortable in his current position that he simply didn't think the effort he would have to put into fighting the redhead worth it, as it became apparent that the redhead wouldn't let go of him any time soon, and so he forced himself to relax a little and lowered his head on Charlie's broad shoulder.

The dragon handler sighed inwardly in relief when he felt the younger wizard give in and tightened his arms around him.

"What happened?" Charlie asked and the black haired wizard considered his answer. He didn't want to lie to his host but he didn't wish to anger him and cause problems in his relationship with Kyle either.

"Please, tell me the truth."

"I was finishing cleaning up when he came," Janus said after a short moment of silence in a hoarse whisper. He didn't want to go into the details and so he only said: "Kyle wanted to make sure I left the preserve and never returned. I'm so sorry."

"It isn't your fault," the redhead said, thinking: 'Kyle, what the hell?'

Charlie resumed carding his hand through Ian's dark hair to reassure the young man as much as himself while thinking. It didn't make any sense for his lover to order his assistant to leave the preserve. He didn't have any kind of authority to do that or any viable reason, did he? And why would he want to force his guest away with such force?

Now that he thought about it, hadn't Ian withdrawn from him since Kyle came to visit him the other day? Was his lover the reason for Ian to avoid him?

"He has threatened you before, hasn't he?" Charlie asked at last though his question was as much a statement as it was a question.

Janus didn't see the point in lying and so he gave a slight nod in response. He was so tired and the dragon handler exuded such warmth. It made him sleepy despite the pain he was in. He was so tired that he even didn't question the feeling of safety and just closed his eyes. The day had been so long and eventful and the emotional turmoil of the evening had worn him out. He just wished to soak up the warmth from Charlie, curl up and fall into, hopefully, dreamless sleep.

The redhead felt a strong desire to jump up and go murder Kyle but there were still the injuries that had to be treated and it didn't look like the black haired wizard would stay awake much longer. Therefore he shoved his anger into the back of his mind. At least for the moment.

"I need to look at your injuries and call Niko or Helga," he informed Ian but he wasn't prepared for his guest to stiffen and shake his head.

"No, no. Please don't. I have potions in my bag. I'll deal with it."

Charlie thought only for a second. Either he could fight the younger man and call the two healers despite his wishes, or examine the damage, help as far as possible and then, if necessary, insist on seeing the healers nonetheless.

"Ok, but let me help you." Ian eyed him warily for a moment but then nodded. The redhead set him down on the bed carefully so as not to jostle the injuries and then asked after the potions. Instead of giving Charlie the directions, Ian summoned the pouch from his trunk and laid it beside himself.

"There's Pain Reliever and a rather potent general healing ointment in there," the black haired wizard stated and with a glance at his body said: "Nothing's broken."

"Why don't you let me make sure?" Charlie asked. His assistant was clearly very uncomfortable with the situation. It was rather odd that he refused to let the healers heal him. Odder still that he didn't want to be examined by Charlie, wishing to have treated the superficial wounds only.

He reminded the dragon handler of the hurt, distrustful dragons when they first arrived at the preserve or when they found them. It worried him greatly that Ian was so wary but he knew he wouldn't find out the reasons behind his behaviour if he asked outright. For now he would have to be patient. "I'll just use a simple diagnostic spell, ok?"

When he received another nod, he quickly performed the spell. He skimmed through the piece of parchment that appeared at the end of his wand and sighed in relief. Ian wasn't seriously hurt. He would be in pain but there wasn't any internal damage and, the young man had been right, no broken bones.

After he showed the results to Ian, he gave him a vial of the Pain Reliever and helped him take of his shirt. Though uncomfortable, the black haired wizard let him in the end spread the healing ointment on his upper body. Charlie was very careful so as not to cause the young man, who without his t-shirt on looked like he would break at any moment, any unnecessary pain. He was so very thin and pale.

It took half hour to cover all the bruises and lacerations. If he was more aware, Ian would have to admit that it was a nice change to have someone there when he was beaten. But as it was, he was so exhausted that he was halfway in the realm of sleep. On the edge of his awareness he noticed Charlie stroking his hair before he finally succumbed to sleep.

The redhead watched him for several more minutes after Ian's breathing deepened. The young wizard was such an enigma but he would put at least a part of the puzzle together. He would. He would find the reason for Ian's distrust. He would discover the reasons for Ian's escape and he would help the wizard heal both physically and emotionally because it had been the second time that he had retreated into his memories and that didn't speak for Ian's emotional well-being. Now, however, he had a lover to deal with.

He must have been angrier than he assumed when he had cast the Stupefy because Kyle was still unconscious when he closed the door to Ian's bedroom and warded it against any noise he and Kyle might make. He revived his lover and waited 'til he was fully awake. When he saw the awareness in Kyle's brown eyes, he punched him in the face and heard a satisfying crack in his lover's nose.

"What the hell, Char?" His lover exclaimed and sat up clutching his bleeding, broken nose.

"You know perfectly why. Just tell me one thing, why?" The normally calm redhead responded in a cold, angry voice.

Kyle tried to cup his face and kiss him but the dragon handler leaned away. The brunette growled in frustration. "Why? Why do you think, Char? You could see his pretty face and arse swing in and out of your cabin! I couldn't have that!"

Charlie was sure his face showed the surprise he felt. It was just so...

Kyle was jealous. Unreasonably jealous. If he weren't going to break up with him anyway because of the way he had treated Ian, he might have seriously considered it after this little proclamation. Of course he recognised the beauty in Ian. How could he have missed it? But he wouldn't have done anything about it. Without regard to what Ian would think of any advances from him, he would never act upon his attraction while in a relationship with another man. If his lover of several months didn't know him that much to trust him to be faithful, he wasn't sure he wanted to continue their relationship.

"You idiot!" The redhead hissed at Kyle. "You come here, threaten him, beat him up and nearly kill him without any reason! If you ever so much as touch a hair on him, I will kill you, are we clear?"

The brunette didn't even have the chance to answer before Charlie hoisted him up by his collar. Even though the dragon handler was smaller than he, he was much more muscular and stronger and so didn't have any problem in dragging the resisting man to the front door.

"And Kyle, our relationship is over! I don't want to see your face around here anymore!" And with that he threw the man out. He didn't stay to watch him pick himself up but went to his liquor cabinet to have a shot or two of Firewhiskey.

He now had an explanation for the feeling of unease when he left the cabin for the Order meeting. He didn't think how he knew something was out of order but frankly, he was glad that the disquiet made him hurry back instead of chatting with Bill. He just hoped there wouldn't be any repeat of the night's events any time soon if ever again.

When he finished his second glass of the golden elixir, he took a shower and went to make sure his guest was okay before going to bed himself. As soon as he opened the door to the small bedroom however, he saw Ian's small form trash from side to side in the light streaming in from the living room door. After a step into the room he could hear Ian whimper and moan. 'Silencing charms,' he thought.

It was obvious that the sleeping wizard wasn't in fact having one of _those_ dreams but a nightmare and so Charlie didn't hesitate in approaching the bed and sitting down. He started talking soothingly to the dark haired wizard and carding his fingers through his silky hair. Not long after that the young man began to calm down and the lines on his face smoothed. However, when the dragon handler made to go away, the frown reappeared and Ian started to whimper again. So Charlie resumed his stroking and waited before the other man was sleeping peacefully.

This time, when he tried to retrieve his hand, Ian caught his wrist in a vice-like grip and wouldn't let go. The redhead sighed, took out his wand to expand the bed and summon a blanket from his room. If his presence helped the other to fight away the nightmares, he wouldn't leave him.

They would have to talk about everything but for now, he would sooth the nightmares of his guest away. He laid down, put his arms around the young man and quickly fell asleep.

From his years at the Dursley's and at Hogwarts, Janus was used to waking up slowly, mapping out his surroundings with his senses, well, at least those times he didn't wake up screaming from his nightmares. This morning there were several things out of place. For one, he was feeling rather well-rested. A very strange occurrence as he couldn't sense any lasting effects of a Dreamless Sleeping Potion. Also it didn't take long for him to remember that he was at Charlie's cabin in Romania but for the life of him he couldn't recall being so comfortable or having slept on a hard but warm pillow. Furthermore there was some odd weight resting against his back.

Perhaps if he recollected last night he could figure out what was wrong...

Right.

He had been brewing with Helga and Niko then he had taken a shower and made soup. Wait, Charlie hadn't been in the cabin but at the "chicken meeting". He had cleaned up the muggle way then Kyle had surprised him and had threatened him... And then... And then Charlie had been there asking what had happened (Had he _really_ been sitting in the redhead's lap?) and applying the ointment to his wounds.

Well, he could certainly tell that he had met the wrong end of someone's fists the night before as his whole body ached but it wasn't so bad. He had definitely been worse, much worse but it still didn't explain why his head rested on a hard, warm pillow. As far as he could remember he fell asleep after the dragon handler finished spreading the healing potion.

Wait! The pillow _moved_!

Janus opened his eyes but the only thing he could recognise was his hand on the pillow – or whatever it was. Therefore he carefully raised his head and turned it slightly around, only to have to stifle a gasp.

'Oh hell! Charlie!' Charlie was with him, in his bed and he, Janus, had been practically lying _on_ the redhead!

Though this explained somewhat the moving pillow (it wouldn't have been right if Charlie's chest didn't move, now would it?), the black haired wizard was still in quite a shock and wondered how it all came about.

He had fallen asleep alone in his bed, for Merlin's balls! And now he woke up, lying on his best mate's older brother.

'Shit!' he thought. 'I should get up.' And so he did or at least tried to because before he managed to sit up, the arm on his back tightened, causing him to pause and look down at the redhead.

"'Morning," murmured Charlie sleepily as he watched the other man through his still half-closed eyes. "Sleep well?"

Janus was about to answer the question when one of his own made it through his lips. "What are you doing here?" The black haired wizard lowered his head in embarrassment not only because of the situation they found themselves in but because he usually had better control over his mouth. On the other hand he would appreciate to hear a really good explanation right about now.

Charlie couldn't help but be a little amused. Ian in his still sleep ruffled state and obviously uncomfortable at finding himself in bed with him was really cute.

"I came to check up on you yesterday and you were having a nightmare," the dragon handler explained and as he felt Ian stiffen he started to stroke his back. "You calmed down when I was with you and you wouldn't let me go when I tried so, obviously, I stayed."

The younger wizard looked him in the eyes, searching for confirmation of the truth of the statement. When he found what he was searching for, he said sincerely: "I'm sorry."

He really was. He didn't want to cause the kind Weasley whose home he disrupted any problems and here he was being trouble as always. In addition he had been behaving like a baby. He was seventeen not three and he had always been dealing with his nightmares on his own, so what had happened the night before? Also, the skin on skin contact made his whole back tingle in a not entirely unpleasant way but the hand on his back was nonetheless distracting.

"What for? For having nightmares? For not letting me go? For using me as a pillow?" Janus blushed at this and ducked his head again but Charlie would have none of that. He reached out with his free hand to make Ian look him in the eyes again. "You can't help having nightmares and as for the other two, you don't hear me complaining, do you?"

Janus couldn't say anything to that as the dragon handler seemed to be serious.

"Still, I'm so sorry for–"

"Don't even think about finishing the sentence!" Charlie growled for he sensed what the other wizard was about to say and stopped for a moment rubbing the other wizard's back. "Don't you ever dare to apologise for what Kyle did!" When the black haired wizard met the sky blue blazing eyes, he couldn't help but be slightly taken aback at the sincerity there. He swallowed his words, although it didn't mean that he stopped feeling guilty for the whole mess.

"If there is anyone to blame beside the arsehole, it's me for not having seen what he was doing to you." Janus was about to refute this but when he opened his mouth, Charlie's eyes narrowed and he thought better of it.

"Now, I'm going to prepare some breakfast and afterwards we_ will_ talk, ok?" At his nod the redhead brushed his knuckles lightly against his pale cheek and got up.

"What would you like to eat?"

"Just some toast and coffee," the young man replied in a quiet voice. He felt quite bewildered and overwhelmed for the morning had been so far rather surreal. In the matter of fact the evening before hadn't been better. He had been attacked by a near stranger without any logical reason as far as he knew. Then there was Charlie, someone, a person caring for him, treating his injuries and apparently staying with him during the night.

Usually he was left alone to pick himself up again. At least since his first year at Hogwarts there had been Hedwig with him at the Dursley's, listening to him and doing her best at calming him down but before there hadn't been anyone. At Hogwarts it had been slightly better what with his friends but he could never bring himself to truly trust them and even less so to put any kind of trust in an adult. Yes, they were his friends and he divulged a lot to them, however, they had for example never learned about the full extent of the Dursleys' treatment.

Furthermore he had had more physical contact since the day before then he had had all summer long or perhaps longer (well, not counting his regular "punishments"). He was really surprised at his reaction to the redhead's touch as he would normally flinch away from anyone. He had learned to hold still when Ron or Hermione hugged him or touched him but he never sought it out. With Charlie though he didn't mind and what was more he had woken up snuggled up to him. What was it about the second eldest of the Weasley' children that made Janus trust him so much?

"Here is your blanket," Janus said putting the blanket on the sofa when came into the living area. He was still embarrassed about the sleeping arrangement of the previous night but he had time during shower to process it a little.

Charlie turned around from the stove to see the slightly reddened cheeks but he refrained from commenting. "Thanks. Breakfast will be ready in a mo."

They ate in a companionable silence and then the redhead charmed the dishes to wash themselves before pointing to the sitting area. Janus sighed inwardly at what was to come but he felt that being honest with Charlie was the least he could do after what the redhead had done for him. His instincts were telling him to trust the dragon handler and all of Charlie's actions towards him so far proved that he could tell him the truth. At least what he was comfortable with. He sat in an armchair and drew his legs up to his chest and stayed silent when the redhead seated himself comfortably on the sofa.

The silence stretched for several minutes before the dragon handler ordered his thoughts and decided on the safest question to ask. This whole conversation was obviously none too comfortable for his companion but there were still several topics he was quite sure, Ian wouldn't want to discuss right away and so he asked: "Why did you want to leave Grimmauld Place?"

Janus started playing with threads on his trousers, not looking at Charlie who was watching him intently. For several long minutes he debated with himself how to answer the question and how much to divulge.

"Before I give you an answer, I've a few questions of my own," he said when he made a decision. "How do you feel about the headmaster?" He asked and raised his head to see the redhead's face.

Although Charlie didn't quite understand where this was going he gave nevertheless an honest response. "I don't really like him. To me, Dumbledore is not really the figurehead or the epitome of goodness or wisdom."

"So why did you join the Order?"

"Well, I got my job thanks to Dumbledore so I partly had to. Partly I didn't know the headmaster that well when he asked me to join and obviously I wanted to somehow help in the war."

Janus studied the redhead's face but he couldn't detect any lie. Sure he could have tried to use Legilimency but for one he respected someone else's privacy and then he was quite certain that Charlie protected his mind against attacks. Therefore he nodded to himself in satisfaction. It seemed that he had been right about the redhead. The fact that he had helped him escape the Order's clutches was kind of a big giveaway but still better safe than sorry.

"I assume that you are using Occlumency," Janus said and at Charlie's nod he went on."But what I'm about to tell you must stay only between us. Nobody else knows. Would you mind swearing an oath?" The black haired wizard asked suddenly unsure of himself and of his decision.

However Charlie took out his wand without hesitation and said: "I, Charles Gideon Weasley, swear upon my magic to keep the following conversation only to myself and not to reveal the content of our discussion to any living or non-living being. So mote it be."

"I... thanks," Janus said after he had collected himself again. He was a little surprised that Charlie took the oath so willingly. He shook himself and cast a ward around them so that nobody else could spy on their conversation, however unlikely it seemed.

"I have long suspected that Dumbledore wanted to control my life a little too much and when, this year, Remus suggested a visit to Diagon Alley I made plans to go to Gringott's as I hadn't been there since before my third year. Bill picked up some money for me but it wouldn't have been enough to buy more books and new clothes beside my school supplies. Though Remus was none too happy when I told him about my plans upon our arrival in Diagon Alley, he agreed in the end.

When we were there the... goblins took me aside and some important things were revealed. I've apparently inherited more than only my trust fund and Nr. 12 Grimmauld Place but also everything of the Potters and Blacks."

"Well of course you have. You're last in the Potter line and it makes sense for Sirius to make you his heir," the redhead interjected wondering what Ian meant.

"Well, how should I have known that my parents or Sirius left me more than my vault and the house? I had no idea they were so wealthy! Who should have told me? Our esteemed headmaster? My dear muggle relatives?" Janus replied sarcastically.

"You didn't know?" The dragon handler asked but it was obvious his question was rhetorical. He was astonished. How could his inheritance be held from Ian? It was not only wrong but illegal! Who would stoop to something like that?

"Dumbledore?"

"I'm pretty sure," Janus answered in a dead voice. Not saying that the headmaster even tried to access his inheritance without his knowledge.

Charlie thought about what he just heard and he had to agree with Ian on one point at least. The headmaster really wanted to control the Boy Who Lived. Looking back it was quite evident that every year Dumbledore would plan for someone to either get Ian's money for him or to purchase his school supplies. He had never questioned this particular fact, thinking it simply a way of keeping the Saviour safe but with the new knowledge it made sense.

"But it's not the only reason for you to get away, is it? And what are you going to do about your inheritance?"

"Well, I'm going to let the issue rest for the moment. Take advantage of some stuff in the vaults and learn how to deal with the new responsibility. However, I can't do anything about the seats in the Wizengamot or accept my titles for the time being." As Janus could sense a question forthcoming he explained his reasoning. "It's not time. I want Dumbledore go down but I need to be sure he hits the bottom." At this Charlie nodded in understanding and waited for the younger wizard to continue.

"And no, it wasn't the only reason. I mean I was pretty fed up with everything, with the manipulations, the control and everything and I could really have used some time off but no. I..." Should he tell him? Should he tell Charlie about the secret hidden for sixteen years? Would the dragon handler reject him? Would he be disgusted? It was safe to divulge the secret due to the oath but still, it was a big secret.

In the end Janus looked into the Charlie's kind but slightly concerned face and honest eyes, took a deep breath and summoned all his Gryffindorish bravery. "I wasn't entirely truthful when you asked me about the change in my appearance. It has to do with glamour but in a kind of a different way.

You see, the way I look now, is the way I should have looked since my birth."

"How-"

"My mum put a glamour on me after my birth but it broke with my Majority. I had to conceal my true appearance since my birthday."

The redhead mulled the information over for several long minutes. He hadn't heard about a glamour that could hold for seventeen years but it didn't necessarily mean that such didn't exist and Lily Potter was rumoured to be very good at charms, so he supposed it could be possible. The real question was why would someone conceal the appearance of their child?

When the redhead looked at Ian who let his long hair loose so that it fell around his face, he started to put two and two together. If this was how Ian (or Harry) normally looked than Charlie couldn't detect any feature that would point out to James Potter as his father. He still had the green eyes from his mother but otherwise he didn't look like a copy of James. There was no doubt that he was the Boy Who Lived because though the scar wasn't visible at the moment Charlie knew it to be concealed under a layer of make-up.

When Charlie summed everything up, he came to the only logical conclusion. "James Potter isn't your father."

"No, he isn't my biological father although he did adopt me." Janus confirmed the statement before once again going silent. He had to think about how to explain as he didn't want to have Charlie read his letter from his mother. Although, strictly speaking, there wasn't anything the redhead couldn't know, Janus found himself strangely reluctant to share the letter.

While the dragon handler waited for his companion to speak he studied his huddled form. It must have not been easy for the younger man to find out about his parentage after having believed for seventeen years that James Potter was his father. Charlie couldn't fathom how hard it must be for Ian to accept his new appearance and identity, regardless of who his real father was. He wanted to take the younger wizard in his arms. To pull him close and never let him go. He looked so fragile and lonely but was so strong at the same time.

If it were anyone else, he probably would have acted on his instinct but everything about Ian's stance, his hair and legs making a physical shield between them screamed to keep distance and so the redhead stayed on the sofa. Waiting patiently and watching the young man.

After five minutes Janus finally decided on what to say. "When I was at Gringott's on the 31th I had time to make a quick stop at one of my vaults with heirlooms and other artefacts. Apparently my mother left there a letter for me... When I opened it later that night I found the explanation for my mysterious change of appearance.

My mother and James were never more than just friends and she married him for protection. James agreed for he himself became impotent due to an injury and needed an heir...

I..."

"You can tell me everything, Ian. I won't reject you because of who your parents are. You are your own person," Charlie assured him as he broke off and although he didn't quite believe him, he went on.

"I don't think many people knew that my mother and Severus Snape were in a relationship since their sixth year. He broke up with her after he was forced to take the mark. She never managed to tell him about her pregnancy."

Janus didn't look up to see the widening eyes or the shock clearly reflected on the redhead's tanned face. He didn't need to. He himself had been shocked into tears by the information and he could only imagine how others would react to it.

"So you see, my father is a death eater slash spy who doesn't know he has a son and who quite religiously hates said son."

At the bitterness and sadness in the young man's voice Charlie gave in to his instincts and crouched down in front of the wizard and tried to coax him to look at him. When emerald green and blue eyes connected, the redhead said: "You can't help who your parents are. I mean, I wouldn't have expected that but you don't get to choose your parents, do you?"

The dark hard wizard shook his head but he had to make sure. He couldn't detect any signs of rejection, only concern and sympathy in the blue eyes but he had to assure himself. "You aren't disgusted or anything?"

"Of course not," the dragon handler replied in a soft voice and took one of the slender hands in his big callous one. "Why should I be? Though I admit to be shocked it's none of your fault. Besides, I guess that if your mum had been in relationship with Snape for over two years and, as we know, he fights against the Dark, he can't be such a bad man."

Janus didn't say anything to that and stayed silent. He felt as if a burden was lifted from his shoulders. He had neither expected to feel better after his confession nor Charlie to accept everything so easily. Maybe there was something about the saying "A problem shared is a problem halved." In any case, he was glad.

"And how do _you_ feel about it?" The redhead asked after a while. He had been shocked at hearing that Snape was in fact Ian's father but knowing a part of the history between Ian and the Potions Master from his family, he couldn't imagine what it must be like for the young man.

"I don't know. It's difficult to explain," Janus said after a while. For some reason seeing Charlie's response made him loosen up and the close proximity calmed him down. And so he found himself telling the dragon handler more than he normally would have. "I mean I have always thought that my parents were James and Lily Potter. Many said I was like my father because of my appearance and all but finding out it was all a lie was... I don't know... Knowing who my parents were was the only solace and the one fact I could rely on. But now..."

The young man laughed mirthlessly and looked down at their joined hands. "I have wished for parents all my life, you know. I have now, at the age of 17, found out that I have, in fact, a living parent. The only drawback is that my father not only doesn't know about me. No, he absolutely and irrefutably despises me. It's kind of ironic, really."

"And do you?"

"Do I what?"

"Do you hate him?" Clarified Charlie.

"No. No, I don't," Janus replied without having to think. "I've in fact respected him for some time. He's a truly great Potions Master and surviving as a spy for nearly two decades is also quite remarkable."

"Will you tell him?"

The dark hard wizard laughed another mirthless laugh and said: "I might be stupid but I'm not suicidal. Though mum left in the Potter' vault a letter for him as well, I don't think telling him is such a good idea. He would think I played a prank on him and either kill me himself or deliver me to old Voldie on a silver platter."

"Why wouldn't he believe it? I mean, now that I know he's your dad," (Janus made grimace at the thought of the stern Severus Snape ever being dad. Father was bad enough.) "I can see the resemblance between the two of you. You're not his spitting image but there are enough characteristics you got from him. Besides, your mother's left could help to make him believe."

"Are we talking about the same Severus Snape? The Snape who sees Harry Potter as the bane of his existence? And once I'm in the UK I'll have to look like the Boy Who Lived again anyway, so..." Janus shrugged helplessly as if saying "so what's the point?"

"Ian," Charlie replied thoughtfully. He could of course see and understand the fears the young wizard harboured and of course nothing of what he had heard or seen had suggested that Severus Snape held anything but negative feelings towards the dark haired wizard and the dragon handler wouldn't offer any false platitudes but he still thought that it would be wrong of Ian not to tell his father the truth. Because for him it didn't matter whether the Potions Master would be elated or appalled at the realisation that he had sired a son some 18 years ago. No for Charlie it was important what Ian wanted and from what he had heard, his companion very much wished to be united with his father. Therefore he said: "Forget about Snape and about what he wants for a moment. What do _you_ want?"

**A/N**: Thanks again for your reviews.

I apologise for the cliff-hanger/s. I have to keep you on your toes somehow, don't I? :)

**madamem: **I can see your point and if there are more people finding it confusing, I can try to find some solution. However try also to see my point. Harry gives himself a new name upon his arrival at the preserve, Janus, but Charlie addresses him only as Ian. As the perspective changes, the name changes despite Harry, Janus and Ian being one and the same person.


	12. Chapter 12

AN: My dear readers,

I am very sorry for the delay in updating my story. First I was away for two months in somewhere without even the hint of an electronic device and then I had some problems with finishing this chapter. Though I am not exactly satisfied with how it turned out, I don't think I can make it better without making you wait for several more months.

Not to forget - thank you all for your reply. I appreciate your responses to my humble story very much!

Sorry again for the delay and (hopefully) enjoy!

**12. Chapter – New Arrival**

What did he want? That was a very good question.

They hadn't talked much longer after Charlie asked him the question. He hadn't known how to answer it and he wasn't prepared to reveal anything more either. He had always been very secretive and private about his affairs and he was pretty certain the next questions would be about his flashbacks and therefore his life with the... muggles. He wasn't ready for it. Not at the moment. Not when he had so much to figure out.

The dragon handler must have understood that it wasn't time to push for more answers and he let Janus go visit Adelinda without any protest for which the dark haired wizard felt grateful. Charlie had only asked him whether it would be okay if he told Bill about at least part of his involvement in the disappearance of the Boy Who Lived in order to avoid any more suspicion, before he grabbed a broom and was off to the dragoness.

Now, he was sitting close to the cave leaning against Adelinda, stroking her scales as she lay curled around her egg. He hadn't uttered a word since he came and the dragoness hadn't asked any questions. She just looked at him with her big eyes and then went on to rest in the sun.

Janus once again wondered how good it felt to have talked about some of the things he was dealing with. If it had been someone else than Charlie, he probably wouldn't have uttered so much as a word or thought of some excuse. It was rather interesting that despite knowing Charlie only for a week, he trusted him with his secrets.

People always told him what to do. Be it his relatives or the magical community in the UK. You are the Boy Who Lived, our Saviour, you have to do this and that... You can't do that... For the good of the wizarding world... There had never been a person asking him what he wanted to do. How he felt about things.

Sure there were his friends, Ron and Hermione, who would ask him in daily situations about his wishes but even those he couldn't answer honestly all the time because there were many expectations concerning the Boy Who Lived, the Gryffindor Golden Boy. If he said, he wished to study or go to the library in his free time, Hermione might be happy to see him acting _responsible_ but Ron would definitely question his sanity. If he wanted to get a snake, he was sure to hear accusations that he is turning to the Dark side or even the next Dark Lord. Of course, those things did matter to some extent but there were also those fundamental matters.

Had he been asked on which side of the war he wished to fight, let alone whether he even wanted to take active part in the fighting? Had he been asked where he wanted to go and what he desired to do once he turned 17? No. Albus _Bloody_Dumbledore made the decision about his life. He wouldn't even be surprised if the _headmaster_ had already chosen a spouse for him. It was nauseating, really.

To be asked what he wanted to do was quite the novelty. The surprise however was how hard it turned out to be to answer a seemingly simple question. Although he had tried to see through the manipulations and be his own man for quite some time, Janus had never considered his own desires. He had only "moved" in the frame of the machinations and not looked beyond. He had been trained to think of the others instead of himself and though he knew it rationally, it was much harder to act upon the realisation. When you had been told over and over since a very young age that you were nothing, a burden, a freak, a waste of space, etc. you wouldn't be able to shake the lack of self-worth from one day to another, if ever.

Despite his silent rebellion against the Order and the headmaster he had never been so selfish as to think of his own wishes. Even his departure from the headquarters without permission was not as selfish as he was very close to a breakdown and in that state he wouldn't have been able to help in any way.

So what did he want? Did he want Snape to know he had a son? That he, Harry, was his son? And what did he want from Snape?

If it were any other person (well, perhaps not Dumbledore, Voldy, Malfoy senior or the other loyal disciples of the Dark Lord – not necessarily in that order), he wouldn't have to think long. He would have wanted to confront his parent and get to know him better. However as the situation was, did he wish to get to know Severus Snape? Did he wish to tell him the truth?

The answer was yes and yes. The question, however, was, could he deal with the consequences? Could he deal with the sure rejection?

Nearly exactly at noon Bill arrived at the dragon preserve. Charlie had floo-called him earlier as he promised and Bill, who was worried because his closest brother practically ran out of Order headquarters the night before without so much as a word of explanation, immediately took a portkey. He was reminiscing about the time when they could talk openly via Floo, write letters without the fear of censure and floo without restrictions.

Now, if you wanted to leave England, you had to take a Ministry controlled portkey, apparate (if you were magically strong enough) or use muggle means. It was frustrating. The curse-breaker missed Egypt. Not only was his job there more interesting and full-filling then his current desk-job at the London branch of Gringotts but when he lived there, they could communicate with Charlie much more freely and see each other more frequently. But he had decided to come "home" for the war, to be closer to his family, so...

The only saving grace was his work with the goblins. Though wizards usually didn't acknowledged it, goblins were powerful magical beings in their own state and were quite capable of making (slightly) illegal portkeys. As Bill proved to be good at his curse breaking job and while working in Egypt brought them every time more than they expected, he could enjoy the luxury of leaving the country almost at his own free will. Otherwise, he feared, the relationship with Fleur might not have worked out quite so well.

When he shook the effects of the portkey(He hated those blasted buggers. Even the goblins couldn't make the contraptions more pleasant.), he hugged the slightly smaller but stronger dragon handler and sat down.

When they both had a bottle of beer (muggle beverages were in both of their opinions underappreciated amongst wizards), Bill asked: "So which dragon had you in such a rush this time?" It was not the first time that Charlie hurried back to the preserve because of a crisis with a dragon, though he usually stopped at least to explain his abrupt departure.

Since it took Charlie more than twelve hours to call him, Bill had been really concerned that something happened to him. He could tell now from his appearance that this wasn't the case (this time) and thanked all the gods once more that their mother never found out how many scars her second eldest son had already acquired in his job. Though Charlie would be treated at the preserve, sometimes he wouldn't be able to work for a few days and then he would end up staying with him for a few days to get himself back on feet.

Bill's job wasn't exactly safe either but the frequency of injuries in the first year of Charlie's job had even him worried about his younger brother. However he knew that dragons were Charlie's love and that he wouldn't give up on his chosen career for anything. He often teased his brother that he would even marry a dragon if he could.

"None," the dragon handler said and took a swig from his bottle. "Kyle decided it was a good idea to strangle my assistant."

"And?" Bill asked with a raised eyebrow at hearing this. He wondered a little about the unexpected anger in Charlie's voice. His younger brother, though a mountain of muscle was known for his calmness and kindness.

"He's my ex-lover now," Charlie stated matter-of-factly. "And Ian is more or less alright."

"I didn't know you had an assistant."

"He came a few weeks back and stays with me," the dragon handler explained. "Apparently Kyle thought him a threat."

"Was he?"

"A threat? No, you know I wouldn't be unfaithful."

Bill raised an eyebrow. He knew this statement to be truthful but usually his brother would comment on the inadequacy of the person and on the impossibility of a relationship with said person which could only mean that he was, at the very least, attracted to this Ian. Given the anger in his voice earlier, Bill suspected it was more than attraction Charlie felt but his brother would tell him about any possible new blooming relationship. There was no point in pushing him into anything.

Charlie noticed the raised eyebrow and felt grateful that Bill refrained from asking any pointed questions to which he himself might not have answers because he was attracted to Ian. Very much so and not only to his appearance but also to his personality more and more. However, he had to figure out if he wanted to do anything about it and if yes than what. He didn't even know whether Ian would be amenable to a relationship with him, let alone whether he was gay. Then there was the distance during the year as Ian would have to return to England in the end of August and he himself would stay in Romania. Furthermore they had specific roles to play in the war and then there was the war itself. No, he would think about all of it later. Now he had to deal with Bill's suspicions about certain matter.

"So, what did you think about yesterday's meeting?" He asked.

"Honestly I think it was a waste of time," Bill said seriously. "I have talked to Harry several times and I know that he is capable of taking care of himself and hiding from unwanted attention. Obviously he doesn't want to be found and so he won't be. Besides the suggestions where he might hide were rather ridiculous."

"Yeah, they were, weren't they?"

"Do you know something?" The curse-breaker asked when it became clear that Charlie wouldn't offer any additional information he might know.

The dragon handler met Bill's light blue eyes and said: "You wanna know whether I had anything to do with Harry's disappearance." The older man nodded even though it was not a question. "The answer is nothing. I mean I know about him wanting to get away and I talked to him that day. He was planning on disappearing shortly before the meeting started and staying at his friend's. But that's all I know."

Bill studied his brother carefully. Charlie was calm and serious but they weren't the closest brother's for nothing and so Bill knew when his younger brother was not entirely honest.

"There's something you're not telling me," Bill stated.

"Yes, but I gave my word not to tell anyone, not even you."

The curse-breaker searched in Charlie's eyes before he nodded. Wizards believed in the power of words and the meaning of promises. If you gave your word to someone, you better keep it. He would have liked to know what was going on but he trusted his brother and if he said he couldn't tell anyone, he couldn't and that was it.

They chatted for a while about their respective jobs and ex-/partners but much too soon Bill had to return to Gringotts. He would have liked to meet Charlie's new assistant but he would surely get to know him sometime in the near future. He just had to visit his younger brother soon and that wasn't such a hardship.

Charlie was glad how the talk with his older brother went and that Bill accepted him not revealing anything so easily. He was pretty sure there wouldn't be a problem but he was relieved nonetheless. He looked at the watch hanging over the dining table and decided to prepare late lunch and take it to Ian as he suspected the young wizard wouldn't come back to eat anything. With that thought he got up and made his way to the kitchenette.

When, later that evening, Charlie asked Ian how often he suffered from his nightmares, the black haired wizard was reluctant to give a straight answer and that was the only answer the dragon handler needed. He insisted that the young man cancel the silencing charms around his room so that he would know when he was distressed or couldn't sleep. For Charlie wished to help him somehow and if the previous night was any indication, he rather thought his presence might be able to.

They both went to their respective beds early as they would have to get up with the sunrise once again. It was not even midnight when Charlie woke up to screams. It took him only few seconds to orient himself and to run into the guest bedroom. Several minutes later he managed to wake Ian but he needed even longer to calm the young man and to convince him to go to sleep again.

At 1:30 am, not even an hour after Charlie returned to his own bed, the redhead found his way into Ian's room once again. This time, however, he expanded the bed and summoned his blanket and stayed with the troubled young man after he stopped shaking. Ian tried to disagree and send the redhead back to his bed as before but Charlie just shushed him and lay down.

The alarm clock woke them up at sunrise the next morning. Janus was encircled in the redhead's strong arms and when he became aware of the situation, he blushed and mumbled something unintelligible before he stumbled out of the bed and went to the bathroom.

Charlie only watched after him in part amusement at his friend's embarrassment about the situation and something strongly resembling longing. He was past the stage of embarrassment when finding himself in bed with someone. He wasn't after all a novice to sexual matters and having grown up with younger siblings who, as every other child, suffered from nightmares now and then, meant that he had allowed them to stay with him overnight when they were frightened, so there really wasn't a reason for him to feel awkward at waking up, especially as he was still clothed and under his own duvet with Ian in his arms.

Of course, sleeping in a bed with his youngest brother's best friend in a totally unromantic sort of way wasn't something you did every day and the redhead had to admit if only to himself that it was a little strange when he woke up the day before but he would have lied if he claimed he didn't enjoy holding the young man in his arms.

Every day he was more and more attracted to Ian. To his inner strength, to his gentleness and open-mindedness even to his insecurity causing him to blush. He didn't know whether he had a chance with Ian or even whether his guest bent that way. Furthermore Ian was eight years his junior and he was the wizarding Saviour and therefore could have anyone he pointed his finger on. So why would he want to settle down with him? A common, boring, scarred dragon handler?

He sighed and got ready for the day.

They didn't mention the night at breakfast nor later in the day. Janus only put his bed in order and brought Charlie's blanket into the living room. They returned to the cabin very late in the evening as Adelinda started to get restless as she felt the coming hatching of her baby and so the dragon handlers had more to do than any other day. They did their best to calm her down but she responded well only to Janus and Charlie. The others had to pay even more attention around her as not to be fried to a crisp.

In addition they had to prepare alternative living arrangements for the hatchling because, as the redhead explained to his assistant, it wasn't uncommon for the dragons not to take care of their dragonets. Janus doubted that would happen with Adelinda because it was obvious from her care of the egg that she cared for her baby very much. Even Charlie didn't believe Adelinda would reject the hatchling but protocol was protocol.

Dragons were nearly extinct due to many dragon hunts, be it for potions ingredients or for fear of the great reptiles, and so the dragon handlers took very good care of each and every one of them. It was better if the dragons took care of their dragonets as Tanit did but the dragon handlers had also to be capable of stepping in as surrogate "mothers", as in the case of Norbert.

So after the exhausting day they came home after a quick dinner at the meeting house and went straight to their respective beds.

However, as the night before, Charlie found himself soon in Janus' bedroom. This time he brought his blanket with him the first time. He didn't even wake the thrashing young man. He just expanded the bed and laid down, murmuring soothing words and stroking his long black hair. When Janus quieted down, the lines on his face smoothed and he snuggled up to the redhead who drew him closer into his arms and stayed for a while watching his companion before following him into sleep.

The next morning was nearly the same. Janus felt embarrassed and ashamed of himself for needing the comfort of someone else, especially the second eldest Weasley who made his whole body tingle when he came close let alone touched his skin. But although he was embarrassed about the sleeping arrangement he would have expected to be angry for finding himself snuggled up to a man or, at the very least, very reluctant to let it continue. He wondered why he didn't mind all that much. Why he even enjoyed the feeling of warm, muscled body beside him and the strong arms around him.

Again they didn't discuss the situation or the underlying tension between them. Something had changed the night Kyle attacked Janus. Something more than just Charlie gaining the trust of the younger man. Charlie felt they needed to talk about things and even Janus, despite his reluctance to admit it, could see that their discussion on their day off was far from finished. There were more things that needed to be addressed. Things he had never ever talked about before. Things he would have preferred to take with him into the grave.

However due to the work at the preserve they found themselves exhausted after the day of work. The second day proved to be the most trying yet for the assistant. The days of calm at the preserve were officially over.

They were just bringing Adelinda some freshly killed chickens when they heard a furious roar in the distance.

Everyone immediately paused in their actions. Usually, dragons were pretty quiet creatures and to hear one from so far away, there had to be something seriously wrong.

They didn't have to wait long to hear the next distressed roars. Roars as in plural. They could recognise the two first ones but the third one was a mystery which caused the dragon handlers to exchange worried looks. When you worked with the great beasts day in, day out you got to know the dragons very well and therefore you could distinguish the dragons from each other only by their noises. Same as parents can tell if it's their child that is crying in a crowd full of children.

The sudden answering roar from Adelinda brought the group back from their trance. They all turned towards her in order to calm her down as they didn't need any more enraged dragons at their hands. However, Janus, who could at least understand one of the distressed dragons, was already doing his best to calm her down.

Charlie seeing this turned to the rest of the team and beckoned them a few feet away from the dragon though he stayed close enough to jump in at any second, should Janus need assistance. Though they had dealt with numerous raging dragons over the years Charlie knew that there was a chance they could spare themselves many swearwords, stress and injuries for there was the slight possibility of calming the dragons without using too much force.

He looked at Janus and as if feeling his gaze upon him, the young wizard met his blue eyes with his emerald green ones. When he inclined his head, the redhead was certain that his friend knew what he wanted to do and that he, more importantly, agreed with him.

In the end, he managed to persuade his co-workers to call in Jaq' and Louise to stay with the now much calmer dragoness and to let Janus help them with the situation. They mounted their brooms quickly and rushed in the directions the three arguing dragons were but they were not even halfway there when Charlie ordered all of them to land in a small clearing.

"There is something you need to know," he halted their arguments before they even had a chance to open their mouths.

As they were concentrating on the redhead, Janus had the chance to set up some privacy wards around them inconspicuously while listening to Charlie's explanation.

"You need to know the reason why I wanted Ian to come with us. He has a special ability that could help us solve this situation without any burns or lost arms or legs. I know it's a lot to ask of you but could you, please, swear on your magic _never_ to reveal to _anyone_ what Ian's special ability is and what you are going to witness while dealing with the dragons?" Charlie implored and the usually easy-going man was now talking dead serious. The others could see it in his eyes, in his posture and in the way he talked to them. Hell, they sensed from the first moment that Janus was not all he appeared to be and the protectiveness he showed towards the young man was apparent to all of them.

They trusted Charlie. In their job they had to trust each other to have each other's backs if it was necessary. Furthermore they knew the redhead and he wouldn't be asking, no demanding, for a vow if it wasn't serious. Therefore they took out their wands and one after each other vowed to never reveal anything about Janus' ability.

They all noticed that Charlie and Janus both relaxed a little, though Janus was still a little uncertain about their reactions upon finding him speaking in parseltongue. He didn't reveal all to them now, they would witness it for themselves, after all, but he did give them the heads up.

"I kind of can talk to dragons, although I can only converse with the smaller ones like Adelinde."

They looked at him like he had suddenly sprouted two heads but instead of acknowledging them he cancelled the wards with a slight wave of his wand and mounted his broom. The others followed soon after.

That evening when they met up with the rest of their team for a couple of drinks, Paul, Chris and Andy told the French pair excitedly about the way they had handled the situation with the three dragons. Of course, not before Jaq' and Louise had sworn not to speak about it with anyone else. Janus was just happy that nobody was seriously injured during the little dispute and that he didn't need to fear to be around Tanit from now on. He feared at first the reaction of the others to his little ability but he needn't have worried. Although they were surprised, they were very understanding of his reasons to hide his ability. It didn't, however, stop them from appreciating the usefulness of parseltongue in their line of work and making fun of it.

Charlie listened to the descriptions but his concentration was directed at Janus. He was glad the young man started to come out of his shell at least a little. He fit very well into their little group and the redhead enjoyed watching the rare smile which graced his face now and then.

When they arrived at the scene they weren't very surprised to see Tanit's two dragonets there as they had recognised their roars before. What, however, made them stop in their tracks was the third dragon. They hadn't seen him before and for a Romanian Balaur he looked pretty violent in the way he tried to fight the two adolescent dragons. One of them, Tim, had already an injured wing and even though Tatsu tried to do his best to protect himself and his brother, it didn't look very good for either of them.

Janus fleetingly thought about the whereabouts of Tanit as it was highly strange for her not to be with her babies but he had his job cut out for him and so he shook of the attempts of the others to hold him back and stepped forward.

°Hello there. Why don't you let the young ones be?° Janus hissed in what he hoped to be a nonthreatening voice. All the dragon handlers froze in their movements, except for Charlie who seemed to fight with his instincts to pull his friend back. Ian with his lithe form was in comparison to the Balaur absolutely tiny.

Janus, however, paid neither of them mind. Instead he watched the Balaur turn his head towards the new possible danger. When he was sure he had the dragon's attention, he continued.

°I don't know what they had done to you but I am sure we can clear it without anyone getting killed,° he hissed and when the dragon roared angrily, he amended. °I am certain that their mother will bring them to order.°

It had obviously been the right thing to say as the two dragonets whimpered and the Balaur seemed to calm down a little. By this point the rest of the dragon handlers shook of their shock and watched their new colleague and the dragons in amazement.

°I don't think I will understand you but could you please nod or shake your head if you agree or disagree?° Janus continued. The dragon bobbed his head slightly and the green eyed wizard felt a bit of the tension in his body lessen. He had the attention of the newcomer and the dragon was obviously ready to cooperate. °You are on a dragon preserve. These humans behind me take care of several dragons who have their nests in this valley.°

As the Balaur roared angrily the four handlers raised their wands to stun the beast but Janus stopped them with a slight hand motion.

°No, the dragons aren't kept prisoners. They stay here voluntarily and can leave whenever they like. In exchange for shed scales and waste the humans keep the nests clean, help with the hatchlings and heal the dragons if necessarily as well as make sure that there is enough food,° he explained and the dragon quieted down. °Would you like to stay here?°

The dragon seemed to think the question over and so the young wizard glanced first at Tim and Tatsu who were huddled together and were watching the dragon warily, then at Charlie and the others. He saw the awe and confusion in their faces and despite feeling uncomfortable at their reactions he explained the situation to them quickly in English. "I explained to him about the preserve and he is thinking about staying here. When he has decided I'll make sure he lets you heal Tim and Tatsu.

If he wants to stay what shall I tell him?"

Janus had been at the preserve long enough to know how it worked between the wizards and dragons there. The dragons were staying because the handlers made it preferable for them to leaving. The protection from dragon hunters and enough food were welcomed and so they didn't mind giving the humans their old scales, dung and on rare occasions the egg shells or even their own blood. However, dragons were very territorial beings and so it was essential to find the newcomers an appropriate living space which wouldn't disturb the "older" ones.

When the dragon roared and nodded in agreement, the wizards gave him directions to a cave further up in the mountains the Romanian Balaur might like which he gave to the dragon before asking: °May we now heal the hatchlings?°

The Balaur turned to the two dragonets roared several times causing them to flinch back and huddle even closer together. After that the new addition to the dragon colony spread his wings and was with a few strong swings off to explore his new home.

He was a beautiful sight to see. He was the biggest dragon Janus had seen so far with dark green, nigh black, scales on his back and blue-green on the underside of his belly. The expressions of the others indicated that he was not the only one to think so.

After several moment he turned his attention from the skies to the two adolescents and, taking the departure of the Balaur as acquiescence, he approached them carefully while explaining what the others were about to do. He motioned the others to follow and after an hour, with some explaining in English and Parseltongue, Tim and Tatsu were fully healed. To make sure that they got to their mother safely, they mounted their brooms and directed the two dragons into the sky.

When they landed in front of the cave the little family of Hungarian Horntails resided, they needn't have waited even a minute before frantic Tanit came out of it. When she saw her children she calmed a bit, however, then her big eyes landed on Janus and she roared angrily and started to advance at him.

Before Charlie managed to so much as step in the direction of his assistant, both dragon brothers roared and tried to stop their mother. After several minutes of back and forth the dragoness fell back and studied the face and posture of the human before her carefully.

Although Janus didn't understand what the two dragons told their mother, he could wager a very good guess. He didn't move a finger during the entire confrontation despite the many calls of his name and the worried look of Charlie he could feel directed at him. When Tanit gave up on killing him right then and there, he looked her in the eyes and said: °I'm very sorry about what happened years ago. I never wanted to fight you or endanger your hatchlings but I was forced to. I am very sorry.°

The dragoness was obviously satisfied with what she found in his eyes because she blinked once, twice, inclined her head and then dismissed him and the other humans, turning back to her hatchlings to scold them for their earlier actions.

Janus couldn't help but feel as if Tanit was just another Mrs. Weasley in dragon form.


End file.
